Coattails
by The-Pied-Avocet
Summary: Adolescence is the dormant rose of winter: a prickled, ugly, tangled mess of vines and thorns, with flowers promised only in the distant spring. "Spring" seems so far off to the demon that must console his angry, hurting charge in the midst of puberty - but it will come, and not without a price that they both must pay.
1. The Shears

Henri Fairclough was, in the words of the old groundskeeper who first discovered his remains, "very dead." The only untouched skin was that of the gentleman's face, torn from its skull and hanging frayed from a bare December branch, the wind frosting its flat, purple lips. A confetti of Fairclough's flesh and sinew painted the ex-man's gardens, and the plants, if they could speak, would sing praises to the bloody meal. Scotland Yard only wished this were possible: the plants would forever remain the murder's sole witnesses.

"The work of a monster," the townsfolk would say tomorrow.

"The work of a maniac," the country would say in fifty years.

"The work of a cult," the world would say in a century.

"The work of a demon," would be the eternal explanation.

But a demon was not to blame. And neither was the boy who commanded what was once a demon. The true culprit was the grotesque, beautiful, ruined, handsome, blood-bathed chimera born from their bond.

He answered to the name Sebastian. And he hadn't always been this.


	2. The Lamb

Sebastian sighed as his gaze fell on a three-quarters-empty bottle of champagne left uncorked on the kitchen counter, a glass and a small spill marking the scene of the crime. It was likely the work of Bard. That chef could hardly cook without burning entire meals to a crisp, so why couldn't he at least clean up after his own messes? The butler wondered, briefly, when this had happened, hoping the bottle had not been out for long, though the contents were certainly no good for drinking anymore. And surely it couldn't be one of the vintage selections from the late master's cellar?

Sebastian propped his forehead with two fingers, exasperated. He did not have the patience to sort out such mysteries right now.

Last night, and for many nights this week, Sebastian had been far too busy to give as thorough an investigation to the Phantomhive Manor as he usually would have. The main entrances and first floor hallways were never overlooked, but the kitchen and servants' quarters he had passed by without much worry. He promised himself he would not be so distracted tonight and would be certain to confront Bard about the matter of the champagne at some point today.

But at that particular moment, the young master's breakfast had to be prepared.

And usually that remedial task wouldn't have been such an all-encompassing debacle, but lately Sebastian had to award some actual thought to it. For reasons he still did not entirely understand, this past week had been absolute misery. That wasn't to say he could feel anything akin to sadness or depression, unless pushed to extremes. Yet lately even he, an esteemed and world-wearied demon, checked himself every time he had to deal with the young lord, Ciel Phantomhive.

It was as difficult as if he were learning to be a human butler all over again. This was because Ciel himself had regressed. That was really the only way to define it. He had been drifting into leisure and isolation, preferring the company of himself, for then he could not be judged for being slovenly and negligent. He did not attend his studies and slacked on his company work in favor of reading and pool and riding his horse. He rejected invitations to minor social events. If it didn't have to do with the Queen or the family of his betrothed, he wanted to waste no time on it.

Ten days ago, words were exchanged between Ciel and a strange boy. What were those words? Sebastian's brain itched to know.

It began on February 18th, Shrove Tuesday. The general populace observed this as a day to feast before Ash Wednesday, the first day of the fasting period that lasted until Easter. For the wealthy and less devout, it was any other Tuesday, and for Miss Elizabeth Midford, it was an opportunity for a celebration. Amongst the lower-class, Shrove Tuesday was also known as Pancake Day, as pancakes filled the stomach and were easy and inexpensive to make. In Lizzie's eyes, Shrove Tuesday was a chance to host an evening eating crepes with a group of her closest companions. If there was one thing the young master and his fiancé had in common, it was their naturally sacrilegious dispositions, even if Lizzie only meant well.

Ciel usually tried to finagle his way out of frivolous social occasions, but Lizzie wouldn't let him escape this one, and so Ciel conceded, sighing only to Sebastian, "It could be worse. We're only going to be eating sweets." Indeed, come the 18th Ciel did seem to be in relatively high spirits. Sebastian rarely expected his young master's good attitudes to last more than a few hours. What he hadn't expected was for that good attitude, like a candle flame, to go from wavering to extinguished.

Between the carriage ride to the Midford manor and home again was the Shrove Tuesday party. Sebastian had not been present for it, and certainly that was where the transformative magic had done its work. He had entered the manor with Ciel and followed him to the drawing room. Inside the chairs and sofas had been pushed aside to make way for a grouping of long tables, on which had been laid out an assortment of marmalades, jams, compotes, and, the main event, a stack of crepes as tall as a top hat. Dining chairs surrounded the buffet, all but one seating a doll-like aristocrat's child.

Lizzie dashed up to Ciel as soon as he arrived and clasped his hands in hers. "Ciel, there you are! You're the last one to show up, you silly! Well, you're just in time to eat, the crepes are still hot, and we're going to stuff ourselves until we can't move!"

This "we" included a few faces that were only vaguely recognizable to Sebastian. Three of the guests were girls around Lizzie's age, wearing their warm winter fashions as they were yet due for the social season's spring dress. Sebastian had only seen one of the two boys before, a second cousin from the paternal side of Lizzie's family, whom Ciel had described as "boring but certainly tolerable." He was a delicate creature who was taught at home, hence why he was able to attend the party instead of being away at boarding school.

As for the other boy, Sebastian did not have any definitive answer why he wasn't at school. The child was a black-haired, tousled thing who slouched and leaned his chin on the tabletop. One of the girls was hissing at him under her breath to straighten up and he ignored her in all ways. Sebastian deduced that the two were siblings and somehow the younger brother had been forced into attendance, likely by the parents, as the sister seemed utterly humiliated to have to look after him. At around eleven or twelve years, the boy was surely old enough to be in college. But these were the only observations Sebastian made, and truly it was more in hindsight than in the moment, as the demon hadn't yet to suspect the urchin of anything.

"Sorry, Sebastian, but you aren't invited!" Elizabeth had wagged her finger at him in playful chastisement. "Us young adults are going to have our own party tonight! But of course you're welcome to celebrate Shrove Tuesday with our servants downstairs. Run along now!"

"Your invitation is gracious, my lady," Sebastian said with a small bow. "Young master?"

Ciel waved him off. "Yes, yes, go and make merry. I'll see you in a few hours."

Naturally, Sebastian's idea of "making merry" didn't involve eating pancakes with the Midford staff. He swiftly had himself situated in a treetop overlooking the manor, the gold fur of a slender tabby filling the space between his ungloved fingers. It wasn't often he had the chance to indulge his feline tastes… and at the time, this had seemed like such a dream that he'd paid hardly any mind to the party happening behind the windowpane just thirty yards away.

Sebastian did not imagine he would ever regret being preoccupied with a cat. February 18th had changed his mind.

He did give brief glances to the drawing room indoors, for even though Sebastian was certain his charge was in no immediate danger, his guard never dropped altogether. It was just after he was permitted to touch the velveteen of the golden beauty's inner ear that something caught his eye. Within the window's bright square, Ciel had stood up from his place at the table and was berating that lackadaisical black-haired boy, who was still slouching.

Sebastian kept the cat entertained with his hands and his sights trained on the window. From far away, his perfect eyes could read Ciel's lips – "If you can't behave yourself, you can leave. You're embarrassing your sister and ruining this party for the rest of us." Sebastian chuckled to himself. How unusual for Ciel to play the role of the 'responsible boy.' But that wouldn't be the most unusual occurrence.

The 'irresponsible boy' replied with something Sebastian could not make out with his back turned. Ciel raised his chin and retorted, "Well then it's no wonder they kicked you out of school." That was when the little Heathcliff rocked out of his chair to his heels and shouted. Whatever the words, they made Ciel lower his brow and put on a puzzled, concerned expression. The sister put her hands to her mouth, and the brother dashed out of the room. Lizzie came into view then, and held Ciel's arm to her chest and said something with a worried frown, nothing more consequential than an, "Oh, dear." Ciel still seemed to be digesting the secret words that were shouted at him. He said nothing and the children's gathering disbanded soon after.

Sebastian scratched his coin-colored prize at the base of her tailbone till her back arched like a bridge. Now he had to make busy dusting off her fur before he could show up to collect his master. The answers would be his in due time.

"That seemed to end a bit swiftly," the butler began, once he and his lord were alone in the carriage together.

"A bit." Ciel had his elbow propped on the windowsill and his mouth pressed to his palm. His speech was thoughtful, muffled.

"Did something happen?"

Ciel eyed him with the single spot of blue. "Some drama spoiled the party atmosphere. I think Lizzie was secretly delighted about it though. She has this new fascination with gossip and scandal. It makes me worry she'll ask me to make some kind of a scene with her in public someday."

"Some kind of a scene, hmm?" Sebastian mused. "What kind of scene was there tonight?"

"Jane Reubin's little brother was being a nuisance. He was making a mess and kept complaining that the crepes were too thin and such."

When Ciel stopped his explanation there, Sebastian only felt his curiosity grow. Certainly there was more of a story here. "Did he say something shocking to you, young master?"

Now Ciel looked annoyed. "Why is that any of _your_ business?"

"It certainly need not be."

"Then it isn't."

"Young master, do not be so evasive. I can tell when something is troubling you."

"You're lucky I'll excuse your impertinence," Ciel growled. "When your master tells you his life is none of your business, you keep your nose out of it. Or your _master_ might just be inclined to have you muck out the stables."

Sebastian's lips parted in mild surprise at the elevated turn of the conversation. No words would soothe now, and the carriage ride commenced in silence. He decided he would ask again about how the party unfolded in the morning. A good night's sleep was the typical cure for a sour outlook.

"I don't want to meet with Mr. Cavendish today," Ciel said when he finally rose at nine-thirty. "Turn him away when he arrives and tell him whatever he comes up with for the Dauphin line is fine. I'm sick of talking about textiles for stuffed bears. Yes, I know I had crepes yesterday, I still want three sugar cubes. I can wake up whenever I damn well please!"

Had the faeries spirited Ciel away in the night and left a most unconvincing changeling in his place? If only it could be so. Like it or not, this new brat was his master in the flesh.

When told he should be doing his homework, his paperwork, his responsibilities as the Earl of Phantomhive, Ciel would answer snottily, "I'm not going to today, and that's that. You can't make me do it, you know." And in some ways Ciel was right – he couldn't be _commanded_ , not in the same way Ciel could command Sebastian, but that didn't mean the boy shouldn't be _instructed_. With trained patience, Sebastian had reminded Ciel of his goal to be the finest master possible, which meant he had to make appearances and continue his studies, to remain impressive and decisive.

"Well, I don't feel like it today, and perhaps not tomorrow either," Ciel had drawled, and that was that. Ciel had instead spent the day in his study, fiddling around with books and board games. Sebastian had felt that perhaps just one afternoon of recreation would be enough to appease him, but still a week later Ciel rebuked studying for trips to town and dozing about.

Mrs. Mayell the dance instructor and Mr. Hancey the professor of arithmetic had no qualms about the young earl calling off their appointments at the last minute. This was to be expected, as they received full pay when there was less than twenty-four hours' notice of a cancellation. The tutors only expressed real concern when Sebastian informed them their services would be postponed "until further notice." Sebastian could not have pitied them less: if they knew how the young master was acting, they would surely forego the paychecks than be in his presence.

And Ciel's obstinacy hadn't stopped at his lessons and meetings. When Sebastian had brought him his mid-afternoon snack in the library a few days ago, a more significant and healthy choice than usual because Ciel had neglected his lunch, the young master had glared at the crudités and then up at his butler. He gave a short laugh.

"I'm not going to eat this," he sneered. "Take it away."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "You should, if you want to feel well. The vegetables will give you far more energy than sweets would, and you're going to need that if you want to stay awake through dinner."

Ciel waved his hand at it. "No, I don't want it. Bring something with chocolate in it instead."

Without another word, Sebastian had. Perhaps he should have objected – he usually would have objected – but he really was getting tired of making decisions for the boy when all he would get in response was griping. And despite his sweet snack, Ciel had indeed made it through dinner without trouble. In fact, when half past ten arrived, the boy said he was hardly tired and was going to stay up reading as long as he wanted. On his nightly rounds, Sebastian saw his charge finally retire at around two in the morning. When the sun rose, Ciel objected to both an eight o'clock and a nine o'clock alarm, and finally managed to stir when it was a quarter till eleven, very begrudgingly at that.

Sebastian did not voice his disappointment, but he wore it like a mask. He was hoping Ciel would respond to it with shame and try to change his rebellious behavior, but nothing worked. In fact, his performance only grew more disheartening. It was nine o'clock on a Thursday morning, and Sebastian could only hypothesize that the breakfast of toast, half an orange, and sausage links would not be turned away. A month ago this meal would have been acceptable, but now? There was no telling.

After taking the trays upstairs via the dumbwaiter, Sebastian rapped softly on the door, waited half a minute, and then entered without being called in. Lately it had been likely this – no doubt Ciel was not awake yet, having spent another evening staying up as late as he fancied, without heed to what the next day would bring. It wasn't very becoming for a young person to sleep in so late, and Sebastian was tiring of this behavior, wondering when his displeased hints would have to transform into poignant order. He wasn't looking forward to that whatsoever. It was equally unbecoming for a butler to be telling his master how to live his life than it was for the master to be so slapdash.

As expected, Ciel was curled up completely under the blankets and comforter in the huge bed, his form immobile. Sebastian wheeled the trolley of tea and breakfast to Ciel's right and crossed briskly to the other side to open the drapes. It was a cloudy day, but the sun still peeked out between the gaps, and Ciel immediately cringed in on himself.

"No, close it... It's too bright for me."

"It's time to get up," Sebastian said merely, clipped. But immediately after speaking, he realized something was off. "Young master, are you... well?"

There was a croaking cough. "I threw up last night. Close the curtains." Ciel's hand waved out of the sheets. "Jus' close the curtains already... ngh. It's hurting my eyes."

Sebastian did as he was told, abstaining from a sigh. "Where did you vomit? And when?"

"I threw up into a towel so nothing is ruined or anything. 's on the floor somewhere. Now leave me alone."

Sebastian picked up the offending object and put it where Mey-Rin could find it later, glad he'd brought extra gloves, as always. He could not serve any food while wearing the same pair.

"Why didn't you summon me last night?" Sebastian asked, truly curious and a little put-off. Though he had not felt the need to carefully inspect the mess on the towel, he did note it had been completely dry. "You know I would have come to help you. We could have gotten you on the path to recovery much faster."

"I was too sick to." A pause. "I don't have to tell you _everything_. Now go away so I can rest."

Ciel was still hidden under the blankets, so Sebastian allowed himself a frustrated glance at the ceiling. Ciel may be sick but he clearly wasn't sick enough to lose his foul attitude. "I'm not leaving yet. Come out from under the covers so I can see you, please. We need to find out what your symptoms are, so I can decide if I need to administer medicine."

" _Fine_." Fussily, Ciel slithered his way out from beneath the blankets, his mismatched eyes annoyed but lidded tiredly. Sebastian had wondered if the sickness was a new ruse to get out of work but clearly the boy wasn't well. Sebastian took off one sullied glove and tested Ciel's forehead for fever. There was none.

"Would you mind describing to me how you feel, young master?"

"Yes," Ciel said, "but I will anyway. My mouth is dry but my throat doesn't hurt. My head hurts a lot. Don't open the curtains again, the light stings my eyes. My stomach still hurts but I don't think I'm going to throw up anymore." Ciel frowned up at his butler. "You're a demon, aren't you? Shouldn't you be able to pick up on when something is wrong?" And then, with a hint of panic, "You can't just know everything by looking at someone, right?"

"I cannot read minds, if that is what you are inferring." Sebastian removed his hand and took his remaining glove off to put on the new pair. "We could have solved many crimes for the Queen much faster, if that were possible. In any case, I see you are not well enough to leave your room today. Because of your nausea, I also doubt you have any interest in eating. I think a glass of tea might do your stomach some good, however, especially if there isn't honey in it."

Ciel licked his lips. "I... I feel like I should eat something."

"I don't advise it. Judging from your symptoms, I imagine you have some mild form of gastroenteritis," Sebastian said. Despite this diagnosis, he felt a bit wary of the boy's responses. Ciel had to be sick, but... he was behaving like he wasn't, in some ways. "I'll prepare you some peppermint tea instead of Ceylon." And then, reluctantly, "Is there anything else I can bring for you?"

Ciel had hunkered back down in bed and closed his eyes. "No. I just want to lay here. My head hurts too much. No lessons today?"

"Just as with the rest of this week," Sebastian said, his tone dry, "there will be no lessons."

"Good." And that was all. No acknowledgement that he had been behaving like a spoiled brat, just a simple reaffirmation of his power. Sebastian gave a small snort in disappointment. Just what was he going to do with that boy?

Sebastian wheeled the trolley out of the room and back to the dumbwaiter. Another wasted breakfast. At least today it was with purpose: it seemed like every other morning this week, all Ciel wanted was bacon or butter or sugar or something else that was certainly no good for his body. Maybe that was why he had gotten sick. Sebastian noted this with a touch of spite: this would be fair evidence for a future lecture, when he had the time and energy to deliver one.

He could hardly believe that Ciel would be bull-headed forever, but he wished he knew how long the boy intended to keep this up. At every one of Sebastian's suggestions, the young master could only oppose his butler. Ciel had to have his way, even if his way ended up being more of a hassle. For example, when Sebastian had recommended he take his bath in the evening, Ciel declared he'd rather have it the next morning. That had meant after breakfast, when Ciel had wanted to hurry to the early market, he first had to get the bath over with and had been utterly horrid then too. There was soap in his eyes, the water was too hot, the towels didn't smell right... where hadn't Ciel tried to turn everything on its head? It was stunning how burdensome this behavior could be. It was nothing Sebastian hadn't dealt with from past contracts, certainly, but never before had he felt so... personally involved.

Sebastian reentered the kitchen and began to fix the peppermint tea immediately. At the moment Finny was there, having his own modest breakfast of toast and butter at the servant's table. A swath of mud on his cheek said he had already started his chores for the day and was taking his first break.

"It seems that the young master is the only one around here who doesn't acknowledge that the world begins at sunrise," Sebastian said, handing Ciel's full plate over to the surprised gardener, question marks dancing in his round eyes. "The young master isn't feeling well, he has a minor illness. His breakfast will go to waste unless someone eats it."

Finny blinked at the butler. "Mr. Sebastian?"

"What is it?" Sebastian had already poured the wasted Ceylon irritably down the sink and was preparing the kettle for reuse.

"Excuse me if this is a bit forward, but I'm not sure I've ever heard you speak so candidly about the young master before," Finny admitted with the smallest smile. "All of us here are very grateful to him, of course, but... have you also noticed a change in his manners lately?"

Sebastian blinked. Should he confide in the gardener? He supposed it wouldn't look natural if he dodged the subject now. He delved further into it, promising himself he was only doing so to come off as normal. "Yes, I have. He is very particular and no longer wants to participate in his studies or his work. I don't know if he understands that this behavior is completely unacceptable for him."

"Oh," Finny said. "Well... I don't know about that."

Sebastian paused in the tea-making process. "What do you mean?"

"I guess I just mean..." Finny shrugged. "It is _different_ behavior but that doesn't mean it's _wrong_. I'm not sure. I didn't have a lot of experience with other humans until a few years ago, but I think... I think people go through phases where they change and grow, and I don't think it would be unusual for the young master to be changing at his age, do you?"

"So drastically?" Sebastian hated that he had to ask.

"Maybe. I bet Bard and Tanaka would know more," Finny nodded.

Ah, that was right. "Speaking of Bardroy, have you seen him this morning? I need to talk to him about his... alcohol consumption."

Finny laughed brightly. "That sounds funny. I saw him outside in the stables when I was coming back in for breakfast, getting some feed out for the horses. Would you like me to go fetch him?"

"Please do." At least he could get to the bottom of one case this morning. Bard wasn't difficult to talk to, plus it was Sebastian's job to keep him in line, so this conversation would be a fresh breath after dealing with Ciel. Finny sped out the servant's entrance, leaving behind the breakfast plate, completely clean of food and shining as if it had been licked. Sebastian sighed. No one here tidied up after themselves, which wouldn't be so much of a problem if the maid weren't blind.

"G'morning, Mr. Sebastian," Bard greeted as he came in and removed his shepherd's cap, a question already in his voice. "Jus' what'd you need me for, sir?"

Sebastian merely pointed at the bottle and the glass. He'd left out the mess deliberately (as much as it pained him) to use as evidence. "Might you be a bit more diligent about cleaning up after your little midnight escapades? Can you not wait until your night off and do this at the tavern?" He raised an eyebrow in disapproval.

Bard only shook his head in confusion. "Wasn't me who did that, sir."

"Oh, wasn't it?" Sebastian mused. The chef could have gotten drunk enough to forget about it... but surely less than a bottle of champagne wouldn't affect Bard that strongly? No doubt he'd participated in his share of drinking competitions and could hold his liquor well.

Bard shook his head again and picked up the bottle, tilting it around to get a good look at the label. "No, can't say it was. What is this, cham-pag-nay? Never been too fond of the whites m'self. Not usually even the reds, unless it's heavy stuff. I've got a taste for mead really. Don't you peg me as a beer man? You know you're working with an ex-soldier, don't you?"

Sebastian had stopped paying attention about halfway through that explanation. If Bard wasn't the culprit, it certainly couldn't be Finny, who was eating another piece of toast nearby and would have immediately admitted his crime with a waterfall of tears. Tanaka was too cultured for such a thing; if he drank, he would have removed the evidence but still mentioned it in passing. He certainly didn't have the youthful gusto to finish nearly an entire bottle. And Mey-Rin, she wouldn't drink, and even if she had, no doubt she would have found a way to shatter the glass, and of course it wasn't Sebastian himself, wine had no appeal to his tongue...

Oh.

 _Oh._

Sebastian removed the whistling kettle from its station over the flame and calmly, carefully rearranged the tray so that it was once again ready for presentation. Bard and Finny were exchanging clueless looks, but Sebastian kept his face as placid as ever, even with a small hint of a smile. He used the pulley system to bring the trolley to the second floor again and met it, walking through the long hallways that he could have trodden with his eyes closed.

Sebastian made it back to the bedroom door and knocked thrice, solidly. This time there was a groggy reply.

"Come in, then."

And Sebastian did, hitting the door just so against the wall as he swung it. He closed it again without turning the knob, making the latch click loudly, and approached the boy whose gray hair was spread across the pillow in restless disarray, a hand propped under his bangs. As Sebastian prepared the beverage, he let the spout of the teapot clink against the rim of the cup, the spoon scrape the glass concave as he stirred, actions he wouldn't have permitted himself under normal circumstances but in this moment relished.

"Must you be so noisy? My head feels as if it's being stabbed," Ciel growled. "I don't care what you think about starving it out. My stomach needs something in it or it won't stop turning."

"Hm." Sebastian placed the teacup atop its saucer with an audible _clink_. "You know, young master, I think you may have had a point. I was wrong."

Ciel snorted. "Yes, you probably were, but what do you think you were wrong about?"

"About your having gastroenteritis."

Sebastian watched Ciel react to that. There wasn't much change, but Sebastian detected the subtlest of movements: a tiny dart of Ciel's eyes to the opposite wall and back. "All... right then. Well, I am sick. If something's not wrong with my stomach, I don't know what is."

"Don't you?" Sebastian asked. "I think you may have some idea."

"Don't talk to me that way!" Ciel shouted, somewhat hoarse. He glared hard at his butler, Sebastian gazing gravely back. Ciel held the stare for a few moments more. Then it dawned on him. Ciel knew what Sebastian knew. It was clear in those blue and purple eyes as they faltered to the floor: a look of uncertainty, guilt, perhaps even embarrassment, the classic expression of getting caught in a lie and wanting to disappear.

Sebastian opened his mouth to speak but cut himself off when Ciel's gaze shot up, as fiery as ever. With a grin, the boy folded his arms over his pajamas. "Well, what do you have to look so grim about? So what? I can do whatever I like. I'm the master of this place, not you."

Sebastian sighed long and hard. "Young master, you are only fourteen years old–"

"And I'm already a lord!"

"Title aside, you are too young to drink nearly an entire bottle of champagne by yourself."

"That isn't for you to decide."

"It isn't my decision, young master. Many humans before you have proven this so."

Ciel puffed out his chest, trying for proud. "They said I was too young to be the master of my own manor, too, but look at me. I'm- I'm practically an adult already! If I've seen people die, I can drink alcohol. I can handle it."

Sebastian shook his head. "Clearly, young master, you are not handling it well in the least."

"Well, if you were any good at your job, you would have stopped me before I drank!" Ciel shouted, having risen to his knees in bed so they were closer to the same height. He laughed once, mockingly. "But no one saw me! No one even _tried_ to stop me, not even you, even though you say you're always looking out for me, patrolling the hallways after I'm supposed to be asleep! Couldn't even tell what a 'child' was doing, out of bed in the middle of the night! And now you'll regret it, won't you? You failed, Sebastian! _Ouch!_ Damn it..."

Ciel hissed as his head panged, and he sunk back on his heels.

"You think I failed because I didn't notice you were awake?" Sebastian said. Ciel nodded, baring his teeth in pain but trying to look as if it were a threat. Sebastian remained calm. "Perhaps I did fail, though I don't know what that failure is based on. I did not miss you last night, because I was only looking for anything out of the ordinary. I did not look in the kitchen and, considering your new sleeping schedule as of this week, I did not think it was odd for you to be out of bed at that hour. I myself was rather busy with a task I deemed more important."

"Oh, and what would that be?" Ciel said, grinning maliciously. "What's more important than making sure I'm well? Why didn't you know I was up to no good?"

"Are you implying that you only drank so that I might catch you?"

Ciel looked away. "No. But I..." He trailed off and grunted. "Not that you need to know. Or deserve to know."

"So you drank champagne with the express purpose of getting drunk?"

"Sure I did. Because I can."

"That's your only reason?"

"What more reason do you need from your _master_?"

Sebastian's eyebrow ticked. "I need one to ascertain your own health."

Ciel rolled his eyes. "I'm not really even sick, I'm just affected by the alcohol, it'll go away–"

"You're ill _right now_ because you made a poor decision, young master. You need to take better account of your own well-being."

"It was the decision I wanted to make, that's all that matters!"

"And why all of a sudden?"

"It isn't sudden!"

"Ten days ago you weren't–"

"I've always been able to do whatever I wish!"

"And _why_ have you decided you can do whatever you wish?" Sebastian finally asked. He felt as if he had blurted it out: how often did he reveal he didn't know something? But he was too vexed to care. "You are, obviously, at the oldest in this moment that you have ever been. Yet you are acting as if you are that ten-year-old urchin I first met. There were those weeks, long after you better recovered from your parents' deaths and from your months as a captive, that your behavior began to worsen just a bit, because your freedom had come back to you and you realized that no one would tell you what to do anymore." Ciel folded his arms more tightly at that, scowling. "That is how you are behaving again, and I know the Shrove Tuesday party has something to do with it. It is as if that Reubin boy has spoken the incantation to turn you into the troll under the bridge. But what those words could be, I cannot possibly fathom." Ciel's cheeks and ears burned a livid red. "And so I ask you, now, to tell me where this wicked nature has sprung from."

"I don't know!" Ciel shouted, throwing his arms out and laughing, but not merrily. "I don't know, how the hell am I supposed to answer that? I'm only acting like myself, not anybody else!"

Sebastian put a knuckle to his chin. "I should tell your aunt about the champagne."

Ciel's eyes widened. "No, you won't."

"I won't," Sebastian said, "but perhaps she would better know how to put up with you, since she is family. As your butler, I must say I have no idea how to make sense of your behavior. You need to eat more healthfully, you need to learn the lessons I give you, and you need to behave like a well-mannered young man. Surely you know these things, because I have seen you be capable of them. It is as if you have simply decided to disregard all of your hard work and transform into a silly child."

"I don't know why I am," Ciel said, knotting up the sheets in his hands. He let go of them and knocked himself on the head with both fists. "I don't know, I don't know! I'm just being myself, all right? I don't understand what the problem is."

"And to answer your previous question," said Sebastian, handing over the tea with a little too much force, "what I have been doing at night is trying to research what might have caused such an abrupt change in you. But I cannot find a single thread in the books in your library. I am going to keep looking, now in fact, for I understand you will not be going anywhere today. Rest."

Sebastian turned to leave and was not terribly surprised to hear the sound of a shattering teacup behind him. The carpet was littered with splinters of china, Ciel's hand leaning off the mattress in a downward thrust.

"Clean it up," Ciel spat. His mouth fidgeted between a frown and smile, testing the man.

Then Sebastian said something he had never said to a master, something he didn't even know he was capable of saying. "No, young master. I am not going to."

"Then you violate the contract!" Ciel snarled.

Sebastian shook his head. "I don't. I do not have to follow certain orders if I do not believe it is better for your well-being."

"How is leaving tea on the carpet better for my well-being?!"

"You need to learn," Sebastian said simply, "to _behave yourself_. And that's not going to start unless you take responsibility of your own actions."

Ciel glared at him again. "Well I'm not going to pick it up either."

"And so there it shall forever remain."

"You aren't the boss of me!"

"Then who is?" Sebastian asked meaningfully. "Because from your display over the past few days, I doubt that person is yourself."

Ciel grabbed at his scalp with both hands and screamed. "Fine! I don't care! Fine!" Sebastian flinched as Ciel flung himself off the bed onto his knees and snatched up the pieces into his palm, plucking haphazardly. After a few seconds, he thrust the few white chips he'd gathered out at Sebastian. "All right, I cleaned it up on my own! See? I _can_ do these things!"

Ciel wasn't crying but his eyes did have a watery look to them that betrayed his frustration. Sebastian recognized the meaning for it. He even felt a bit unsettled to have such a face directed at himself. It was a face of hopeful fury, both daring and pleading for Sebastian to accept him for just what he was in this moment: a spoiled, atrocious, hurting, confused little horror.

"You should get back into bed," Sebastian said, not as a snappish command but a gentle suggestion. Ciel's expression blinked into surprise. Sebastian held out his palm. "Let me take those pieces from you before you cut yourself. I'll clean up the rest."

"No you won't." Ciel was still defiant but rapidly losing steam.

Sebastian answered steadily, "I will, because you aren't well enough to and I am. That is the reason, young master. That, and because it is my job. Nothing more."

After an unwilling beat, Ciel's posture slumped. He poured the pieces into his butler's palm and turned around and clambered slowly back into bed, folding the blankets around his legs with deliberation. He watched tentatively as Sebastian removed the rest of the shards from the carpet and patted the damp spot with a towel. It was quiet the entire time as both parties were cooling down.

Finally Sebastian stood, hand full of tiny teacup fragments. "If you want to drink alcohol, young master, you may have a single glass of wine with dinner as often as you like. But you will not drink most of a bottle by yourself again – at least not for many years, not until you can make that decision more rationally, and even then I don't advise it. It isn't becoming..." He trailed off. "And it isn't good for you. I think you learned that lesson for yourself today."

"Okay." Ciel had his knees pulled up to his face. He wasn't looking at Sebastian.

"Please, get some real rest now and I'll bring you something bland to eat. Let me know if I can fetch you anything else." Sebastian turned to go, leaving the trolley there within easy reach.

"Tomorrow."

Sebastian turned his head over his shoulder. "Tomorrow?"

Ciel nodded again. "Tomorrow I'll... be good. I'll get back to my paperwork."

"Oh? Will you?" Sebastian tilted his voice.

Ciel nodded once more, knees still covering his mouth and gaze still fixed dead ahead.

"I'm glad to hear that." Sebastian hesitated. "But even if you decide you won't... I will still be your butler."

"What? What's that supposed to mean? That's obvious," Ciel whined quietly.

"It means..." Sebastian wondered what he meant. He realized it too quickly. "It means that as ill-mannered and impossible as you behave, it isn't going to change the fact that I will still be here."

With another flinch of surprise, Ciel turned to his butler at last. The two studied each other pensively.

Eventually the boy dropped his gaze. "I won't drink that much again," Ciel said, downcast. "I didn't even like the taste very much. It was much too bubbly. It burned my throat and made me want to sneeze."

"You don't have to drink wine anymore if you don't want to." Sebastian returned to Ciel's side and poured him more tea. "Now, you should lie down. And with your willing permission, I will prepare the delayed documents and studies for you to begin tomorrow."

"Fine." After another few careful sips, Ciel put the cup aside, turned and pressed his face directly into the pillows. He muffled something into them that sounded like, "Thkks."

Sebastian had a guess at the secret message but still said, "Pardon?"

Ciel surfaced just a little. "Nothing."

"Very well. I'll return shortly with some honey toast for you, my lord."

Sebastian shut the door with quiet care behind him, not wanting to further disturb that nasty headache. He himself didn't fully recognize what had just passed, but he had a feeling Ciel would suddenly be easier to tolerate. And even if Ciel wasn't... somehow Sebastian felt he would at least be able to put up with it.

If you felt like Ciel was OOC, it's because I wanted him to behave more like a real fourteen-year-old than he usually does - in particular a fourteen-year-old with PTSD. This is going to surface especially in the next chapter.

If you felt like Sebastian was OOC at times and other times not, it means I've written this chapter successfully.

And if you enjoyed what you read, absolutely let me know! And if you didn't - let me know as well. Constructive criticism is welcome here.

I hope to see you again for chapter three!


	3. The Wolf

The incident with the wine, it turned out, was just the beginning of Ciel's transformation.

Ciel's initial rebellion that hit the Phantomhive manor like a steam train had slowed, but it certainly hadn't stopped. The boy had returned to his lessons and paperwork, though he paced himself, and his steadily growing appetite made way for healthier options come supper. However, the topic of sleep was still one where demon and master butted heads.

Though Sebastian tried, it was nigh impossible to coax Ciel to bed before eleven, and twice as difficult to wake him up again in the morning. Their battles were becoming an evening event that the rest of the manor had grown to anticipate. As the sky grew darker, Finny, Mey-Rin, and Bard would begin to eye each other with apprehensive interest, as if silently betting on how high tempers would flare tonight. Ciel's inconsistent sleep patterns threw off the daily schedule entirely, gave Sebastian less time to keep the rest of staff in check, delayed crucial appointments with business tycoons, and set his own housework back by days. Now it was ten o'clock and the bedtime process was about to begin again. After three tedious weeks of these spats, Sebastian felt his patience exacerbated. Regardless, ending the contract was not even a question he considered.

It was all in wait of that delectable soul. Wasn't it?

Lately Ciel spent a lot of time alone. In the evening he could often be found in his study or his bedroom, and on occasion Sebastian was asked to "go away, come back later." Indeed there was an increased need for privacy that did not go unnoticed. Sebastian preferred not to ask questions. He was aware of the Phantomhive library, however, and that certain books on human anatomy had been selected as of late. Sebastian had seen empty slots in the shelves, only to find their missing books in spontaneous locations around the manor while cleaning. No passages were marked, but favored pages seemed to involve the makeup of the derma layer, male and female alike. Scotland Yard needn't be called in for this little mystery.

Ciel's interest in his own body and the bodies of others was of no surprise to Sebastian. If he knew anything about humans, it was their fascination with the parts hidden beneath cloth and lace, whatever parts their culture deemed sinful to gaze upon. It had been that way for thousands of years. What Sebastian was significantly less familiar with were the swinging moods and sensitive feelings that began with a young one's startling introduction to sexuality. Though he'd now been informed that Ciel was in the midst of a tender age, perhaps the tenderest of them all, the boy was prickly as a hedgehog and argumentative as a jay - truly anything _but_ tender.

Tonight Ciel had chosen his study as his lounge spot. This made Sebastian's job harder: at least if Ciel were in his room, he wouldn't have to move much to get ready for sleep. Being a walk away from the bedroom caused Ciel to procrastinate until he was practically stumbling over his own feet down the hall in exhaustion, midnight chiming on the grandfather clock.

"If you don't wish to walk, I will carry you," Sebastian had offered stiffly a fortnight ago. He didn't like to suggest it; it was something a nanny would say to a weary toddler.

Ciel had seemed to think so too. He'd slammed the covers of his book together hard. "I'm perfectly capable of walking there myself, when I'm ready to," he'd snapped, and that was all there was to it. As if to punish Sebastian further, Ciel hadn't gone to bed until two a.m. that night, and the following morning he'd refused to stir until after noon. Sebastian had been rethinking his strategies every since.

Sebastian stood before the study door. What were to be his means of persuasion this time? Ciel was not swayed by logic or meaningful prodding, and Sebastian refused to resort to bribery. Begging was equally unbecoming. And Ciel was likely already poised for a fight. Perhaps… Perhaps this war had gone on long enough. Perhaps a penalty was in order. Yes. The very thought of enforced obedience brought his knuckles to the wood.

Sebastian knocked. After a slight hesitation, Ciel barked, "Who is it?"

"My lord. May I enter?"

There was a snort. "Whatever."

Sebastian stole briskly into the room and stopped dead in the center of the lush green carpet, hands folded curtly behind his back. Ciel was sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair and propping up his feet on the tabletop, book in lap. "What do you want?" Ciel asked airily, without looking up.

Such feigned ignorance annoyed the demon. Sebastian put effort into steadying his voice. "It is after ten o'clock, young master. It is late and time for you to go to sleep."

"No, thank you," Ciel said, gazing into the book.

"And why not?"

"I'm not tired yet. I want to read."

"Whether or not you are tired, now is the time for bed," Sebastian said.

Ciel flipped a page distractedly. "No it isn't."

This was a new strategy of the boy's: dismissing the other's argument as insignificant so as to belittle it. Sebastian refused to play this game. "Yes, it _is_ bedtime. I believe this routine must be enforced for your own good. You can't afford to get fewer than eight hours of sleep or wake up after mid-morning anymore. You have to go to bed by ten o'clock from now on."

"No I don't." Ciel's tone hardened a little but he still forced his gaze on the book.

"You do," Sebastian continued, "or I shall have to take away certain privileges."

"No you won't."

"I will. No one should have any obligation to take you to town, for instance, if you do not rise at a reasonable hour. And if you are not awake by nine, you should not have your breakfast served hot."

Ciel glared at him. "No, that isn't fair. I can do what I want."

"You can't, and I want to believe you'll thank me when you're older for saying so," Sebastian replied thickly. Ciel flared his nostrils and Sebastian raised his chin. "We've discussed this before. Being an adult isn't about doing anything you want. It's about having the self-control to withhold yourself from greed and desire."

"Greed and desire? Pff! What right do you have to lecture me on those?" Ciel snorted, standing up and pressing his palms to the desktop.

"Would you like me to get someone else to lecture you instead?"

Ciel pounded his fist on the hardwood. "No one needs to lecture me!"

Sebastian tutted, unable to resist mocking him just then. "Your quickness to anger says to me that you're tired."

That struck a nerve. Ciel rounded the desk and stormed up to the man with shoulders hunched. "I can do what I want to do and if you don't leave me alone, you can be my dog instead of my butler!"

Sebastian couldn't help it. He smirked, which only ruffled Ciel further. "Do you believe you have such a say in the matter? If you think you can still change the guidelines of the contract, you are sorely mistaken. It does not matter that you are rich or a lord. You cannot change what I am." He licked the tip of a fang. "Only I can do that."

For an instant Ciel looked unnerved. Sebastian was suddenly aware he shouldn't have bared his eyetooth like that, but the boy recovered quickly. "Well you can't change me either," he declared, standing tall. "You made a contract with me, so you have to put up with me too! I'm still the one in charge! Now get out of my sight!"

There was an order he was happy to take. Sebastian gave a smart turn on his heel and strode out of the study.

He realized too far down the hallway that he still should have said, "Yes, my lord" before leaving the room. Any butler worth his salt would remember to announce his exit. Cursing himself, Sebastian slowed his footfalls from an irritated stride to a thoughtful pacing. Had he really just lost his temper? At a human? His patience, certainly, but never had his composure fled him like a frightened dove. That was new.

Sebastian put a hand to his chin as he walked. He didn't like this loss of control. He didn't know what it meant, but it couldn't be anything good. What was more, that little exchange had escaped his grip before he'd thought to rein it in. He had derived no pleasure from that conversation, none of it, not the threats or the imposed punishment, not like he thought it would. Instead Sebastian felt… hollow. Unfulfilled.

… Guilty?

No, this wasn't any good.

"Mr. Michaelis?"

Sebastian paused, glanced up. He had been so lost in thought, he hadn't noticed Tanaka approach him from the west stairwell. Or perhaps it was the senior butler's soundless presence that hadn't raised any suspicion. "Ah, good evening, Mr. Tanaka," Sebastian greeted. "Is there something you needed from me?"

"I thought I heard Master Ciel shouting just a moment ago," Tanaka said carefully. "I wondered if all was well and came to take a look."

Sebastian sighed. "I wouldn't say that all is well, but perhaps that all is done, for now. As usual, I was unable to convince him to go to sleep on-time. Ciel is quite attracted to staying up late these days. I know you've been taking on an increased amount of paperwork because of his new schedule."

"Plenty of the paperwork already falls to me," Tanaka said, smiling beneath his mustache. "It isn't a concern."

"But the attitude that contributes to the increased paperwork _is_ a concern." Sebastian put a thumb to his chin and his index finger lengthwise across his lip. "This night owl behavior needs to be nipped in the bud, in my opinion, but he won't listen to reason from me. Do you feel as though he listens to you?"

"I don't know if it's a matter of him listening or not," Tanaka said after a moment's hesitation. "I think the master hears you loud and clear."

Sebastian lowered an eyebrow. "Well, yes. But he does not take to heart what I am saying."

"Perhaps," Tanaka began, "perhaps you are not taking to heart what _he_ is saying."

"Oh? What have you heard from him?" Sebastian tried not to sound eager to know.

Tanaka chuckled into a fist. "He doesn't talk to me about how he feels either. But I can see it, you know. I was young once. Growing up is difficult for everyone, much harder than getting old. And I can only imagine what it must be like to do so without his father around." Tanaka's eyes saddened. "I don't know what the young master went through when he was kidnapped either. I don't believe he's ever told anyone the whole truth of it. It must hurt him badly. It is likely there are memories he's tried to push down that are coming to the surface now with all this new confusion."

Sebastian didn't follow suddenly. "New confusion?"

Tanaka raised a knowing eyebrow. "The confusion of growing up, of course."

But Sebastian could not relate to that. He did not understand what it was like to be human, and realized now that he especially did not understand what it was like to be a human child. He had gotten by in past contracts without having to fathom mortal intricacies. He hadn't cared to. Now Sebastian found himself with a curious, inexplicable desire to make sense of this whole thing. After all, he wanted to make nice with his prey. Make peace with his charge. Make sense of a child who found himself lost in the world of adults he would soon be initiated into.

Oh, dear. Had that thought really just sprung to him?

No, none of this was any good at all.

* * *

The young master did not go to sleep until after midnight. Sebastian gave Ciel a wide berth when he walked to his bedroom. Any further interaction between the two of them that night would likely end in discord. Fortunately, the boy had become adept at undressing himself, so as to cut Sebastian out of his nightly routine altogether, and would leave the clothes in unfolded puddles by his bedside to be picked up in the morning. He still needed help navigating his own wardrobe though (as did all aristocracy), and so Sebastian would be necessary again come daylight.

Sebastian had eight hours of darkness to digest Tanaka's words. As the sun's rays first touched the horizon line, he felt no closer to the answer. " _Perhaps you are not taking to heart what he is saying._ " Sebastian lowered his eyebrows. He had no heart, no soul. Could he come to grasp this lesson?

And if he did, would that mean he had a heart after all?

When the clock sounded eight tolls, Sebastian sought out Tanaka again. "Perhaps you should awaken the young master today. I don't suppose he will be pleased to see me. He will likely be more compliant with you as well. You don't have a history of arguing with him as I do."

Tanaka smiled, his typical response to a difficult situation. "No, I believe you should proceed as normal. Perhaps be gentle with him today though. Last night's shouting match didn't do either of you any good."

"Strong a conversation as it was, I didn't shout at him," Sebastian felt the need to say.

"Perhaps not," Tanaka nodded. "Mind the inflection of your voice anyway, I think. He cannot be angry at you for being rational."

Sebastian was sure if anyone could find a way to be angry about rationality, it was Ciel, but he didn't further question the old man. Instead he followed his advice, for it was all he had.

When he approached Ciel's door at half past eight, he rapped on it softly with his knuckles. "Good morning, young master. Do I have your permission to enter?"

" _NO! Go away!_ "

Sebastian drew his hand back in surprise. The response had been immediate and shrill. How peculiar. Ciel was usually too tired to speak at anything above a murmur at this hour. Was he still angry with Sebastian about last night? No, the boy would just be aloof with him if that were all. Something had to be wrong. "Hmm. I see. Well then… If you won't allow me in, will you allow Mr. Tanaka?"

" _I don't want anyone to come in!_ "

Ciel's tone, so steeply pitched, said this was a fresh wound. Sebastian wondered what he could possibly have done now without doing anything at all. "Young master… you are concerning me. I ask again–"

" _I said don't come in, damn it! Why can't I just be left alone? Why are you always bothering me? I hate you these days! Go away and don't come in until I say so! Go away_ _ **now!**_ "

If Sebastian were a normal human, he would have walked inside in heartbeat to see what the fuss was about. But he was a demon bound by contract, and his intuition told him that opening the door now would in fact not be better for Ciel's well-being.

And so his only choice was to leave.

Tanaka didn't have a smile to offer when Sebastian regaled the details. He listened, and then hurried off in the direction of Ciel's room himself. When he knocked on the door, the response was the same. " _Didn't you hear me the first time? I said to leave me alone!_ "

"It's Mr. Tanaka, young master. Please allow us inside."

Tanaka's tone was so much more businesslike than usual. Ciel seemed distressed by it. " _No, you can't come in! I don't want anyone to come in! Leave me alone! Don't bother me anymore! I don't need anything! I don't want anyone to see me right now!_ "

Tanaka and Sebastian exchanged glances. "You sound very nervous," Tanaka said cautiously. "I really feel I should–"

The door's hinges rattled loudly as if Ciel had thrown himself against the entrance. " _The door is locked and I don't want you to open it, and if you do I won't speak to you about any of this, so just go away until I say so! Go!"_

It was hardly an argument, but the desperation in Ciel's voice made both butlers go silent. "All right, young master," Tanaka said softly, "we won't open the door. But we will be very near. Please call us when you are ready."

" _Fine, just don't come in until I say so! Leave me alone!_ "

After a final worried look at the door, Tanaka gestured for Sebastian to follow him a short distance away. "I think he must be experiencing trauma," he said sadly, "perhaps from a dream or a bad memory."

"Hmm. That seems a possibility." Sebastian had seen Ciel in the midst of a panic attack, though, and usually his trauma caused him to want to be near people, just not touched by them. It would be one thing to turn Sebastian away, as hard feelings still lingered from the night before, but Ciel had also dismissed Tanaka. Sebastian couldn't help but feel this situation was something different. "What do you believe is the next course of action?"

Tanaka sighed out his nose. "Well… it is hard to say. I'm very worried, but I feel perhaps the master's boundaries need to be respected. I also fear that not attending him will only worsen things. If he does not allow us in by five o'clock, I believe we may have to go against his wishes. By then, he will have gone too long without eating. We should see if we can convince him to break his fast."

"Hmm. Yes. I believe you're right." Sebastian wanted to use his demon abilities to see beyond that door, but he had to resist. He would know if Ciel were in pain or if there were someone else in the room. He did not sense any immediate danger. This only served to heighten Sebastian's curiosity. Though he was bound by the contract not to lie and to obey all orders, Ciel had no such obligation. Could this perhaps be another trick to get Sebastian to stop scolding him?

Well, it certainly wasn't going to work.

* * *

Bardroy folded his arms as he watched Sebastian stir, flip, and prod at various foodstuff over the manor's impressive stovetop. "Gee, what's the occasion?" he finally asked past an unlit cigarette. "You usually save the full English for holidays n' company. N' it's not any holiday I can think 'a."

"It isn't a holiday," Sebastian said, tipping the sausages a quarter-turn so that they sizzled perfectly in their skins. "The young master is refusing to come out of his room this morning. I am seeing if I can tempt him out with a breakfast more extravagant than the usual."

Bard lowered his shoulders. "Refusin' t'come out? Oy, that can't be good, can it?"

Tanaka and the chef alike seemed to think Ciel's reclusive behavior was more of a worry than a gimmick. Sebastian still wasn't certain. "It isn't good, but he must come out, or else he won't have anything to eat."

"He has been eatin' a bit more than usual lately, hasn' 'e?" Bard said with a grin, scratching at his stubbly chin with one finger. "He's always been a small one, I hope this means his age n' his height are catchin' up for him. How old is he now? Fourteen? When I was that age, I ate every meal like I was half-starved, I was growin' so fast. No doubt I could have billied up t'all this here n' still had room for seconds."

"No doubt," Sebastian muttered, practically ignoring him, at least until an idea touched his brain. Bardroy had been young once too. He had been young even more recently than Tanaka. Perhaps he also had a perspective on this matter.

"Bardroy," Sebastian began, and watched as the chef straightened up for an order, "is it possible you may have an idea why the young master is so reluctant to leave his bedroom?"

Bard blinked and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, no, sir. Don't believe he'd tell me anything he wouldn't tell you, d'you?"

"No. What I mean to ask for is your own personal opinion." Sebastian began to plate stewed tomatoes and baked beans onto white dishes. "Let me rephrase the question: when you were the young master's age, would there ever be any reason you would refuse to leave your room if called?"

"Not if I didn't want to get a good hiding!" Bard laughed. At Sebastian's deadpan gaze, he stopped to consider the question more seriously. "Hmm. Well, let's see. Maybe if I'd been out late all night n' I didn't want anyone t'know about it. If I'd gotten my good clothes all ragged, Mum'd throw a fit. Didn't always like the boys I palled around with. We did all sorts o' things we shouldn'ta."

"So you hid when you wanted to avoid trouble," Sebastian said.

"Well, not every time! I wasn't that yellow," Bard laughed again. "But yeah, sometimes I'd try to get out of a mess by keepin' it to m'self. I'd have to come clean eventually though. Never worked out in my favor."

"I imagine not," Sebastian said, a little too bluntly. "Well, I've finished cooking, so you can get on scrubbing the pots and pans then. _Gently_."

"Can count on me, sir!" Bard saluted. Sebastian took the trolley on its way, not really believing Bard could be counted on for this, but at least the chef had given him a potential clue.

Ciel's bedroom door remained a shield between himself and the rest of the world. Sebastian knocked thrice on the center of its frame. In the room beyond, Sebastian heard a flurry of footfalls as Ciel barricaded the entrance with his body again.

" _Don't come in!_ "

"I'm not going to," Sebastian sighed. "I wanted to let you know I've brought you breakfast."

Ciel didn't hesitate. "I'm not hungry!"

"Why not?"

"I'm just _not!_ "

"Are you sick then?" Sebastian asked. "It isn't normal for you not to be hungry at this hour."

"I'm not sick!" A hesitation. "Go away already! I'll call you when I want you!"

"Regardless of your lacking illness, I am worried about your condition." Sebastian removed the lids from some of the trays, hoping the smells of streaky bacon and black pudding would leak under the doorway. "Again, just like with the wine, you aren't taking care of your own body properly. You know I can't allow you to jeopardize your health. What's more, you're not allowing me to do my job by–"

" _I'm fine already!_ " Ciel's voice had jumped back to that shrill octave of terrified anger. " _I said I'll call you when I want you, so leave me alone!_ "

"Young master, I only mean–"

" _Just_ _ **leave!**_ "

It was off-putting to hear the boy so enraged. As he set off down the hallway at a clip, Sebastian felt irked and tried to convince himself he was merely annoyed at the lack of cooperation. But Ciel was so clearly trying to avoid something… Was he afraid?

Sebastian set his jaw. If Ciel were really afraid, he wouldn't be going to such great lengths to keep everyone away from him. It was more likely to be what Bard said: Ciel was just dodging trouble. Sebastian left the trolley of food at the end of the hall, where Ciel might be tempted to come after it, and then tried to occupy himself with the usual upkeep of the estate.

That task was easier said than done. There may have been clothes to wash, and a garden to manicure, and horses to feed, and a whole three staff who should be keeping atop those things but weren't, and yet Sebastian found himself distracted in the middle of each chore as his thoughts dwindled off to the mystery of the day. At eleven, the food trolley had still not been touched. At noon, Tanaka had tried again to sway Ciel to come out and failed. At one, Sebastian prepared an early high tea of wulong with osmanthus flower and orange scones. At two, Sebastian took the food back cold. By three, Sebastian found the human pace he was expected to work at especially aggravating.

"Um… M-M-Mr. Sebastian?"

"What is it?" Sebastian practically groaned, turning away from the kitchen sink to see Mey-Rin standing there with a basket of clean laundry in her arms. "Oh," he said, "did you finish them?"

"I-I did, sir," Mey-Rin chirped. "It seemed you might've needed some help today, so I took care of the foldin' after I finished up with the banister, I did."

"Hmm. Looks like you even did it properly. Very good." Mey-Rin was glowing pink from the praise, meager as most would find it. Sebastian's thoughts were still elsewhere. He dried off his hands from washing the china – he would never trust Bard with something so delicate – and slipped back on his gloves. "Now then, since you seem to be the only one capable of doing things right today, I'm going to leave you to clean the silver."

"M-M-M-Me? Clean the silver?" Mey-Rin squeaked, pointing at herself. "A-Are you sure I'll do it right?!"

"I'm not, but I have other things to attend to. I'm counting on you then." Sebastian hesitated in the kitchen doorway. "Ah, right. One more thing."

Mey-Rin paused in the middle of floundering. "Oh, ahm, yes, sir?"

"When you were younger – around the young master's age – would you ever hide in your room all day like he is now?" Sebastian asked.

"Oh, dear," Mey-Rin said. She wrung the end of her apron in her fists. "I am worried about him too, I am. Don't know what could have him shut away like this."

"But maybe you do," he prompted. "Think back to when you were a girl – I don't suppose it was so very long ago." Mey-Rin blushed harder at that and Sebastian ignored her again. "Was there anything, if anything, that made you refuse to listen to reason and disobey your family when they called for you?"

"Disobey… Hmm… Well… Let me see…" Mey-Rin pondered this for half a minute. Then she jabbed her pointer finger into the air in remembrance. "Ah! Yes, I do recall one time! But, you know, I couldn't hide for long, my room didn't have a lock on it or anything like that, and I was also a terrible liar, and I don't think I could have resisted breakfast for more than five min–"

"What was the reason?" Sebastian said.

"Ah, yes, the reason! It was because, well, because actually I had broken something…" Mey-Rin poked her fingertips together with fresh embarrassment. "I-I-I know breaking something isn't such an uncommon occurrence with me nowadays, but well, and not to be rude, but I'm certain nothing I broke in this household would ever be as valuable as a hanging scroll of my father's I once kicked off the wall and tore through with my foot… I don't even want to know how many generations it had been in our family! Oh, I'm shaking just thinking about it all over again, I am!"

"I'm not sure I want to know what you were doing to knock it down that way…" Sebastian said under his breath. "Well. That perspective may be useful. As you were."

"Uh, right, yes! I'll make that silver sparkle, I will!"

Sebastian had his doubts that Mey-Rin could succeed so many times in one day, but it was three-thirty and nigh time to check on Ciel again. By five o'clock, Tanaka would open Ciel's door with the manor's skeleton key and all would be revealed no matter what. Sebastian did not tarry on his way. For a demon who had lived for thousands of years, this particular day felt like a decade in itself.

Another knock to the door. Another clamor as Ciel barricaded it. Sebastian snorted softly – what good did Ciel think his slender body could do against brute force? Well… perhaps nothing. Desperation made men do strange things. "My lord," he began.

"Oh, when are you going to leave me alone already?"

Ciel's voice had gone willowy with hunger and emotional exhaustion, it held no more bite. Sebastian did not pity that voice. It had brought this day upon itself. "Young master, I am not going to leave you alone, and it is foolish to think otherwise. You cannot hibernate forever – you will starve first, and I am incapable of letting that happen to you. You will allow me in now, or by five o'clock Tanaka and I shall come in on our own accord."

A little energy came back to the boy with that threat. "You can't! I don't give you permission!"

"The contract cannot keep me from managing your health," Sebastian reminded evenly. "Self-sabotage is grounds for action on my part. Whether you like it or not, I will enter and your well-being will be seen to."

"I don't give you permission!" Ciel reiterated.

"I don't know what you've done," Sebastian continued, with a calm darkness, "but I know you've done something you're not proud of and you're trying to hide it from me. Whether you broke an object or a rule, got drunk again or tore apart your bedroom in a fit, I will find out about it. You may as well let me in now, while you have the choice. In just over an hour, that decision will belong to Tanaka and I."

" _I hate you!_ " Ciel cried. " _I hate you!_ "

"How natural it is, to hate a demon," Sebastian said, unfazed. "I should expect no less, should I not? You have eighty minutes to make up your mind. Summon me, or do not, for I will arrive in due time."

" _No you won't! I hate you! I hate you! I won't summon you, so stay away from me!_ "

A simple argument from a weary mind did not break Sebastian's resolve. It was time to do what he should have done long ago. Much as he disagreed with the woman, he needed to involve the Marchioness of Midford herself – Ciel's aunt Francis.


	4. The Butcher

With no mortal eyes watching, Sebastian moved nimbly through the surrounding woods towards the Midford manor, "like the devil was at his heels," some might say. Behaving as a demon always helped clear his mind from the mortality that boxed him in. For the first time that day, he felt able to think properly.

There were few humans that Sebastian found impressive in any right, and this contract alone had introduced him to a small handful. Francis Midford was one of these humans. She was a force to be reckoned with; her voice alone brought lesser men to cower (Bard, for instance). And having brought up two children, who were fierce in their own way but perfectly happy, no doubt she also possessed a maternal instinct in her bosom… erm, somewhere. Either way, she was more equipped to deal with this childish behavior than Sebastian. Ciel would have no choice but to obey his strictest family member, unless he wanted to embarrass himself by opposing her.

Sebastian quirked an eyebrow. Just thinking that had made him feel… something. He couldn't quite locate what it was, but he knew what it was in relation to, and he didn't like it. It was like worry, but not quite; pity, but not quite; and understanding it couldn't be, for Sebastian was a demon and the human experience was not his to know.

He had never wanted to know it either. He preferred to observe humans at a distance, like a biologist without a hypothesis. At arms' length from their emotions and suffering, that was where he stood, and happily so. Yet, all of a sudden, it was as if he'd taken a step closer to his test subject without meaning to, drawn in to its habits, as if forgetting this would ruin the experiment. Everything he'd worked for.

The meal.

Sebastian grinned subtly as he raced. He was not a biologist. He was a killer, and merry to be so.

On this dreary spring day, the English countryside was quiet. It was the end of March, and the social season had weeks yet to truly begin. Ciel did not like that time of year. He did not like to abide expectations, but he was still a member of polite society, and Lizzy had graduated from wanting to show off her latest dress to wanting to show off her fiancé. Yes, the social season would be good for Sebastian, even if it weren't for Ciel. The boy would be taken out of his house and Sebastian would be taken out of his position as Ciel's primary companion. Out to the flock, out of the fold, for a wolf in sheep's clothing is no substitute for a sheep.

As Sebastian let his inner compass guide him, his keen eyes detected movement miles away, departing from the Midford manor. He fell back into his butler mindset at that – was Lizzy coming to meet Ciel out of the blue? No, it was not a carriage, but a single man on horseback. Thank goodness – a spontaneous visit might only dig Ciel deeper into himself. He had considered his own trip to the Midford's enough of an emergency that he need not announce himself prior, but perhaps something was amiss for their family as well.

Sebastian dropped below the trees and proceeded to walk at a mortal's pace down the semi-groomed paths of London's backwoods. Minutes later, the rider appeared and Sebastian flagged him down. He recognized the man, though he did not know his name, and the young fellow clearly recognized Sebastian back as he slowed the horse to a gentle gait. He wore the attire of a footman and couldn't hide his surprise to see an esteemed member of the Phantomhive staff walking to the Midford estate as if it were no more than a stroll.

"Mr. Michaelis!" the footman cried, hopping off his horse and bowing his head politely. Sebastian wasn't sure if he should be impressed with the young man for recalling his name or with himself for being so memorable. "I was just riding to the Phantomhive manor to deliver a letter and here you are, all by yourself, no horse in sight! Goodness! Is something the matter?"

"Nothing of urgency," Sebastian decided to answer. "I'd like to ask you the same thing."

"Nothing of urgency," the footman repeated. He reached inside his jacket and took out a letter, sealed with the Midford's wax stamp. "The house just received this for Master Phantomhive, to be delivered as soon as possible, we were told. It's merely an invitation though. The Midford family is currently visiting Master Edward at college. When they arrived, they discovered there's to be an early cricket match next week, and young Lady Elizabeth wanted to make sure Master Phantomhive knew about it, so that he might join them."

"Ah," said Sebastian. "So, they're not at home right now?"

"I'm afraid not," the footman said. "They didn't intend to be away for long, or else I'm sure they would've informed your house."

"I see." Sebastian put a hand to his chin. Well, that certainly didn't resolve the matter of the day. It would take too long to bring the marchioness back from her holiday to make the request worthwhile. Which meant Sebastian would have to deal with this after all…

"Mr. Michaelis?" The footman extended the letter. "Is there any sort of message you need us to regale to the marquis and marchioness? Is all well?"

"Well enough. If they are not home, it is of no trouble. I will make sure my lord receives the letter." Sebastian tucked the parchment into his own jacket as the footman politely nodded his leave. "Wait a moment. I have something to ask of you, if you aren't in a hurry."

The footman stepped forward obligingly. "Of course, sir."

"Firstly, were you raised by your parents or did you grow up in the manor?"

If the footman was puzzled by the arbitrariness of the question, he didn't show it. "Ah, both," he said, scratching at the back of his pearly blonde hair. "My father and mother, they both work for the Midfords. I was raised to help where I could, until I was old enough to have a proper position."

"Hmm. Then this may not apply, but… would there ever be a time when you were summoned by your parents and refused to come?"

The footman blinked at that. "I... Hmm. Not that I can think of."

"Never a time you were too ashamed to approach them about a mistake?" Sebastian tried. "Perhaps you broke something, or had been reckless?"

"Oh certainly I had broken things and was careless," the footman said with a smile, "but, you see, I was never too afraid to tell my father what I had done. He is a patient man to this day. When I made a mistake, he was the first person I would go to, because even if he were upset, he would always help me make things right again."

"… Is that so," Sebastian said quietly.

"I should hurry back to the manor now, if it's not a problem," the footman said, mounting the horse again. "Are you sure there's nothing you needed?"

"Never mind it." The butler turned on his heel. "I believe… we shall be able to handle things from here."

The young horse stamped impatiently and tossed his head homeward, and the footman turned to quell the beast. "What is it that needs to be handled?" he asked. When there was no reply, the footman glanced back around, only to see empty space behind him. Sebastian had already departed. It was as if he hadn't been there at all.

* * *

He did not knock. He did not scold. He merely called out, "My lord."

"Go away." The response was directly from the other side of the door. Ciel was still leaning against it, hopeful of barring the entrance, no doubt.

Sebastian kept his voice steady. "I am not going to go away."

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Very well. You don't have to speak. But I will." Sebastian lowered his chin a fraction. "I am sorry."

It was silent, but only for a moment. "Why?"

"Because," said Sebastian, "I have been hearing you, but I have not been listening to you."

Ciel said nothing.

"I know something now," Sebastian continued. "I know why you are in your room."

The boy panicked. "What?! No! But how could you–? I told you not to–"

"It doesn't matter what it is, specifically." Usually he wouldn't interrupt, but this time it seemed necessary. "What I know now is that you are in your room because you are afraid of what we, Mr. Tanaka and I, will think of you. You are afraid of our disapproval."

Again, a wall of silence.

"I wanted to tell you," Sebastian said softly, "that I will not disapprove of you."

Silence.

"It does not matter what it is you have done. What matters is your health, and the knowledge that there is nothing you could do to lose our good graces."

"You don't know that."

"Do not forget what I am, young master." Again, his tongue swept his eyetooth reflexively. Perhaps he had grown a bit too used to flaunting his fangs at prior contracts. "Whatever has happened, I am certain to know worse."

"…" He heard Ciel stand up. "That doesn't mean you won't think of less of me."

"I will not think less of you."

"You can't prove that!" Ciel cried.

"I can," Sebastian said. "You are a human. No matter what has come to pass, you will still be a human. Nothing more, nothing less. And few know better than you and I what horrors humans are capable of. I cannot imagine any 'crime' you have committed today would compare."

Ciel gave no response but silence. A minute passed, two, in this way. Then Sebastian's gaze flicked back to the door when beyond it, light as a doe's step, Ciel's feet padded across the carpet and over to his bed, and there was a rustle as he folded the blankets around him. Sebastian wondered if he was about to be dismissed again, when the muffled and delicate words were spoken: "Okay. You can come in."

Sebastian felt something in his chest relax as a temporary restriction of the contract was dropped. The door was no longer a barrier between he and his charge. The door was merely a door. So Sebastian brought his hand to the knob and opened it.

The room was not in disarray. It was a bit musty, from having the curtains drawn all day, and dim from not having the candles lit or the sunshine allowed in. There was an unmoving, Ciel-shaped lump beneath the white covers that was, to Sebastian's surprise, a bit of a relief to see. And there were his clothes unfolded on the floor by his bedside, as they usually were these days. Nothing else seemed to be out of place. Sebastian narrowed his gaze. So far there was no indication of anything amiss. So then why did Ciel seem to be hiding from him?

Asking likely wouldn't yield a response. _Be patient_ , he found himself thinking. _Watching and waiting has always been your game._

Sebastian withheld his tongueful of questions and, as odd as it felt, proceeded as normal. He drew the curtains to let in a waning spring sun, then lit the room's lamps too because darkness would not fall but a few hours from then. During all this Ciel scarcely stirred. Sebastian moved around to the other side of the bed and began to pick up yesterday's outfit from the floor. This would all have to be ironed thoroughly after washing, the young master's clothes looked best when perfectly creased… Sebastian restrained his usual sigh as he picked the garments off the floor. None of that mattered in the grand scheme of things, not the vest, or the shirt, or the, um… ah…

Ah.

"Young master," Sebastian said slowly, "did you… sleep in your clothes last night?"

The covers shifted as Ciel curled up more tightly. "Yes," he finally said, barely a whisper and hoarse with anxiety.

Well. Sebastian huffed out his nose. This was… a surprise, to say the least, but also an entirely small matter. Nothing more than a mark. Though the sheets would have to be changed as well, and he should get these trousers soaking immediately, but… well, it could wait, it had already waited all day. Ciel was clearly feeling some sort of shame about this, as small a matter as it was. The young master had never wet the bed before, but this was different, this was a mark only an adult could make, and Sebastian realized then that Ciel was likely at the age where he would make this mark for the first time.

But oh, had it really been worth all the fuss?

"Young master," Sebastian said, warming his tone, "this is what you were hiding in your room for all day? Skipping meals over and barricading the door?"

Ciel flinched again but didn't speak.

"There isn't anything wrong with you, you know. It's quite normal for… _this_ to happen when you sleep. Especially around your age."

The boy's voice was small when it finally spoke. "I don't understand why…"

Sebastian waited for him to finish his sentence, but that was apparently all he had to say. Even after perusing those anatomy books, perhaps Ciel didn't yet know what this was. Sebastian tried to explain things as delicately – and politely – as possible. "Well. I imagine you had this response because of a… a dream you were having." He coughed. "A… good dream. I suppose. In any case–"

" _But I wasn't having a good dream!"_

Again Ciel's voice went to that panic place it had been most of the day. His head and shoulders had lifted under the sheets when he shouted, but fell again a moment later. "I don't understand… I was having a nightmare… That's why I was… But I don't know why…" Another block of silence. Then Ciel's words seemed to tumble out. "They were torturing me, like they were before, with hot knives and hot wax, and I was shouting for someone to help me but no one would come, and it felt real, it felt like I could smell my skin burning, and it lasted so long, when I woke up I didn't know where I was at first, even though it was just this room… and then… I was like that, I had done _that_ , and I don't even understand why, because it was such a terrible dream, but if… if _that_ was my response then doesn't it mean I was happy? Doesn't it mean I enjoyed it, somehow? How?! Am I some sort of twisted lunatic?!" Ciel smacked his fists against the mattress. " _What the hell is the matter with me, Sebastian?!_ "

The shape under the covers shook with fear of itself, the juxtaposition of the dream and his body's response to it bringing his own sanity to question. What normal person would derive pleasure from such a disturbing experience? All these years later, did it turn out there was actually some part of him that had enjoyed the endless suffering? And what did that say about him, about his future? What would everyone around him think, if they knew the truth? Those were certainly the questions that had been swirling in Ciel's mind all day, questions that leaked venom and kept him from reaching out, leaving him to face his shock and terror alone.

"Young master."

Ciel did not speak.

"Young master, there is nothing the matter with you."

"How can you say that?" the boy choked. "You don't mean it! You _can't_ mean it, you're just saying that so I'll get out of bed and get on with things, but I can't pretend it didn't happen! I'm so disgusted with myself, I can hardly think! How am I supposed to keep going on like everything's fine when I know this about myself?!"

Sebastian took a step forward. "Young master, please. There is nothing the matter with you."

"Shut up!" Ciel knotted the mattress cover in his hands. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! You know you're not supposed to lie!"

"Would you like me to tell you you're awful?" Sebastian said. "To tell you that these aspects of your behavior outside of your control are your fault? That you should have done something about which you could have done nothing?"

"I don't _know!_ " Ciel sounded close to tears.

"What I think," said Sebastian, more softly now, "is that you are at a strange time of your life, and that it is making you feel confused and angry. I think you had a lot of tension inside of you, because you haven't felt at peace in a while. There is turmoil, from within and without." _I've been a part of that,_ Sebastian recognized, _whether or not I meant to be._ He pressed on. "Then, on top of that, you had a nightmare about your past, a vivid one. Your body's response was to relieve some of that tension. And I understand why that was frightening for you. My hypothesis, however, is that there is no correlation."

Ciel sniffed. "But what if there is?"

"Your feelings toward all of this are enough of an indicator, I believe," Sebastian said. "You've been unable to approach anyone all day, so heavy was your guilt. I think that is the strongest argument that you are not possessed by your trauma."

The chirping of the evening swallows filled the void that came next. Under the covers, Ciel shifted his weight. "I… don't feel so well."

Sebastian smiled almost imperceptibly. "Understandably so. You haven't eaten in nearly a day, and I don't suppose you slept soundly."

Ciel sighed. "Mnn."

"My lord," said Sebastian. "You are not quite yourself these days."

"I _know_." There was a minor note of frustration in the boy's tired voice.

"Might I make a proposition?"

"Whatever."

"I would like to suggest," Sebastian began, "that you take a holiday."

The boy's head perked up beneath the sheets. "What?"

"I've just received this letter," said Sebastian, deciding not to reveal the circumstances of how. "Miss Elizabeth and your aunt and uncle have invited you to join them in Oxford, as they are visiting Master Edward at Weston College. I was informed they thought they would only be staying for a few days, until they discovered an early cricket match was to be held. My opinion, sir, is that you ought to take a break from your studies and work to spend time with your family. I believe their company will do your spirits some good."

"… Maybe it would." Ciel coughed. "I really don't feel well, Sebastian…"

Sebastian took a step forward. "In what way, my lord?"

"I think I've made myself sick without food." Ciel hesitated. "And I still… about… I…" The boy's face pressed into the mattress. "I don't know if I'm burning up with fever now or… I feel… completely stupid…" His head jerked up again. "What have the other servants said? They can't know. Damn it, Sebastian, if you tell them–"

"I would never say a word, if you did not wish me to," Sebastian said. "They have been nothing but worried about you, particularly Mr. Tanaka."

"Don't tell him either," Ciel rushed, voice strained, "I wouldn't be able to stand it, if any of them knew… I already hate myself enough as it is."

There, again, Sebastian felt that stirring inside him, saying he must now reassure and tend to the boy in this moment of self-deprecation. No… there was no need to give in to further kindnesses. He had already done more than was necessary for a butler. Ciel would soon see his family: they would provide the nurture to this tormented nature. "Young master, take the time now to rest yourself. I will bring you something warm to eat swiftly and, if you feel it possible, perhaps a bath afterwards."

"Perhaps."

Sebastian put a knuckle to his chin. "Young master, are you still too ashamed to come out from the covers?"

"…" The silhouette beneath the sheets twitched. Caught.

"You know you will have to emerge eventually."

" _Obviously_." The voice tried to be defiant but wasn't quite convincing. A bit of deep gray hair peeked out. "I don't need you to tell me that."

Sebastian chuckled a bit. "How strange it is, to see you for the first time today at such a late hour."

The head tucked itself away. "Hmph."

Ah, he'd only frightened the fox back into his den. "Come, now. I only meant it was different from the usual. If you cannot face me, how can you expect to face anyone else?" Still no movement. "Young master, please, you may as well get around to accepting it. This is not the last time this will happen to you, I imagine. Though I have little knowledge from prior contracts in such matters, I don't believe you will ever fully understand why it happens either. I don't believe the subject of the dream must necessarily be… _connected_ , for you to respond in kind."

"… It doesn't?" Finally a bit of interest entered the boy's tone. "So… what you're saying is, it didn't have to mean anything?"

"To my knowledge, not at all. Either way, it isn't odd for this to happen. Eventually you would need to have this conversation – if not today, in another year or so." Though, frankly, Sebastian had hoped it would be Ciel and his uncle talking about this instead. "So then, please do take solace in this fact."

Ciel had slowly been peeking his way out of the covers at this little speech, and he sat up pondering it without seeming to realize he was out in the open. He was still in his long pajama shirt, which did not hang haphazardly off one shoulder, as it might have when he was younger and slimmer of frame. His hair was limp, his face pale, Sebastian noted. And, with a sudden gurgle alighting the air, clearly very hungry. Ciel clutched his stomach with a blush.

"Welcome back to the world of the living," Sebastian chuckled, as if he weren't the most unfitting being to extend such an invitation.

Ciel glanced down at his hands, which clutched the top sheet. "Thanks."

The response was unexpectedly soft and methodical – and grateful. Sebastian felt unsettled by it. "I suppose you'll be wanting some dinner, now, won't you, young master? I imagine what you want is something very sweet, but it would be best to be gentle with your stomach. It is easy for a human's body to believe it is starving, if it goes long enough without food."

"Yeah." Ciel nodded meekly. "Maybe some bread and soup would be good. Do you think?"

Sebastian hesitated. "Yes… I was just about to suggest such a thing."

"And then if I'm able to eat that, I can have something more?"

"Y-Yes, sir," Sebastian stuttered in the face of obedience.

Ciel nodded to himself again. "That'll do."

"Very good. Then I will go about preparing it at once." Sebastian turned to leave, suddenly feeling akin to a trapped rat.

"Sebastian?"

Pausing his exit was the most impossible command to obey. "Yes, young master?"

"I really mean it, don't tell anyone about this. Not my family either." Ciel sighed. "I think you're right. I think I need a break from everything. I feel confused. I don't know who I am these days. I feel angry about things that I used to accept… Like I used to think that being kidnapped was just something that happened to me, plain and simple, and now it makes me so angry that I want to break things. I'm mad at my parents, and they aren't even alive anymore. Isn't that stupid? Even saying this makes me feel stupid. How can I be angry at someone who's dead? But I think that's what makes it even worse. I want to yell at them and they won't even hear me! I want to make them angry too but they aren't even alive to be angry!" Ciel's voice cracked on the last syllable and he stopped talking abruptly.

Sebastian didn't turn around; if Ciel were crying, he didn't want to know about it. "It's been a very long day for you, young master. You will feel better after you eat something."

"Y-Yeah. I suppose." Ciel was barely able to keep his voice composed.

"I'll be back shortly with food. Rest well, sir."

As soon as Sebastian closed the door behind him, he let bewilderment overtake his features.

It was _sympathy_ he felt stirring in his rib cage like a wicked potion. Sympathy! In him, a demon! That he could even name it was truly a devastation… and yet, that is what it was! Sympathy, for a human! For his prey! Where was this coming from? Why did it blossom in him now? He had been right to escape the bedroom before it latched onto him fully. There was no way he could allow Ciel to see it etched in his eyes.

Sebastian could think more clearly when he was not in the boy's presence. This ended now. Ciel was going to join his family in Oxford. Sebastian was going to tell the marchioness all about Ciel's behavior (at least, what he hadn't been barred from revealing). The Midfords would take over the role of caring for Ciel's emotional needs, and Sebastian could default to the formal butler he'd always been. Yes, that was it. Ciel's new behavior had forced him into the position of a wet-nurse. He was merely responding in kind to his charge's desires. All he had to do was delegate the task to someone else, and then he could get his brain back.

There were men who raised lambs for slaughter and men who raised lambs for wool. Sebastian was not cultivating this soul just so he could leave with his arms full of yarn. Let the shepherds raise the lamb. The butcher could not afford to let his blade falter.

"Mr. Michaelis! Did the young master allow you in his room just now?"

Tanaka, again, broke the thinking spell. Sebastian smoothed his features in a heartbeat as the gentlemen hurried the rest of the hall's length to him. "Indeed, yes, I was allowed in at last," Sebastian said. He began walking to the stairwell to steer Tanaka out of Ciel's earshot, even with the bedroom door closed. "I apologize; I'm not permitted to elaborate on my conversation with the master. All I can tell you is that he is quite well, albeit hungry. I can at the very least reveal that there were memories of his past haunting him today. But I think he's going to be fine, from here on."

Tanaka nodded solemnly, then grinned at Sebastian and put a hand on his shoulder. Sebastian restrained a cringe at the gesture. "So you see, even after all your bickering, he has still chosen you as his confidante. You should be flattered."

"… I suppose," Sebastian mustered. "I do believe he already considered me a confidante of sorts, however."

"Oh yes, when it came to his work," Tanaka said, smiling with his eyes, "but I imagine today involved a matter most delicate, one closer to the heart, and you were chosen to handle it. That speaks volumes about how he sees you, you know." The old man sighed with relief and nostalgia. "The late master, when he encroached on adulthood, was away at school with other boys his age… I'm sure he learned much from watching the upperclassman about what to anticipate, other young gentlemen to question when he was confused. But Ciel has no such privilege. This will likely be far from the last time he requests you as a guide."

A demon? Guide a human child through adolescence? What an utterly rich notion. It would have been laughable, had Sebastian not found himself in the position of said 'demon guide.' One may as well have the blind lead the blind. No, no, no; this wouldn't do. Ciel must be immediately dissuaded from considering Sebastian as anything more than his second-in-command. The preparations for the trip to Oxford would begin posthaste.


	5. The Dog

That same evening, Sebastian composed two letters. The first was to the Midfords at their Oxford address, informing them that yes, Ciel would join them within a week's time to observe the Weston cricket match, and to thank them for the invitation. The second was a formal request (more of a command) to Miss Nina Hopkins that she clear her schedule for an immediate fitting with Master Ciel Phantomhive. Indeed, the letter stated, Sebastian remembered their original appointment in April, scheduled just before the social season was to begin; however, Ciel would be visiting Oxford soon for the first cricket match of the college season and it would do him no good to show up in last year's fashion. Desperate times called for desperate measures – and indeed Ciel was in desperate need of measurements.

Ciel was at an odd stage of growth, where he no longer possessed any baby fat, except in his face, but he had not started developing an adult musculature either. His arms and legs were growing longer while his torso stayed about the same size, giving him a rather coltish look. Fortunately it meant that Ciel still fit into his clothes, though they were a little short in the wrist and ankle, and that certainly wouldn't do for an aristocrat of his stature.

The concept of physical growth was another Sebastian was not born knowing. As a demon, he'd had years to master a number of forms. When a contract ended and another began, there was no awkwardness in which he took to his next guise, adorning wings or claws or hooves as if they were mere accessories. Humans had enough trouble navigating their body's natural changes, and those were gradual. Sebastian had witnessed this with contracts in the process of aging. Some fretted about losing their hair and their shapeliness much more than they did about losing their lives. Others peacefully accepted that they had to say farewell to youthful beauty and easy movement.

Sebastian had watched numerous humans fade out of the prime of their lives. He hadn't spent much time observing humans who had yet to enter it. And for all the burden that came with Ciel's indecipherable attitudes, watching the boy pilot his growing body was an entertaining bonus.

Thus far, most of Ciel's physical changes had been rather gradual, so gradual that the boy did not really pay them any mind until the telltale moment that they posed a use or an embarrassment. Tripping had become a much more common occurrence, for instance, what with those legs stretching for new lengths. Watching Ciel trip had become the highlight of Sebastian's career. It wasn't to say he was happy to see his charge hurt – the young master only stumbled without falling – but to watch that stoic frown flinch into a look of utter dread was nothing if not hilarious. And then the blushing mortification that followed… Sebastian was always scolded for snickering, but it could not possibly be withheld.

Ciel's increased height, meager as it still was, brought with it benefits nonetheless. As someone who rarely had to reach up high or climb over obstacles, Ciel discovered these benefits in a very roundabout way: in the bath.

The bathtub was a strange, subtle, unspoken little fiend in the boy's world. This was due to its length and its finish. The sides of the tub were a very slippery porcelain, kept polished by none other than Sebastian himself. The slipperiness was merely a side effect of keeping them clean, which posed an unintended problem for Ciel. One could not lean against the tub's walls without slowly sliding deeper into the water. This gave the tub's user about two minutes of relaxing bliss before they discovered their lips were nearly submerged. Then they would have to go through the troublesome process of pushing their body back into a proper seated position – or at least, this was so if one's feet could not reach the opposite end of the tub, keeping them suitably propped-up.

Ciel's feet had long been unable to touch the other side, and so he could not lounge in the bath, an issue of such mild importance that the boy forgot it existed until faced with it each evening. Sebastian would be washing the young master's hair when he would begin to feel the scalp slowly sinking away from his hands, and then there'd be a little snort of frustration as Ciel nudged his posture higher. The fight for stability was a never-ending one. The thin veil of water between skin and porcelain dissuaded any hope for traction. Ciel was eventually forced to sit on his feet just to stop slip-sliding around like an ice cube in a bowl.

And then the magical evening came when Ciel discovered he could reach his legs out just far enough that his tiptoes finally kissed the other side of the tub. Slick porcelain walls could not defy this natural leverage. With his back pressed against one side and his largest toes the other, Ciel at last soaked in the tub without threat of submersion. It was one of the strangest and most intriguing little victories Sebastian had ever witnessed.

He missed those simple days of missteps and calculated centimeters of growth. The breadth of puberty was a more treacherous landscape, and he and the boy had been plopped in the middle of it without compass or North Star.

Sebastian let Ciel sleep as late as he wanted the following day. It was to both their benefit: being in Ciel's presence made Sebastian feel unusually wary, ever since that little seed of sympathy was planted in his chest. All he could think to do was deprive it of water and sunlight – deprive himself of Ciel, or at least, of this current Ciel, who needed attention and patience and reassurance and kindness – and, according to Tanaka, who needed _Sebastian_ to fulfill all these requirements.

That was nothing if not the opposite of a demon's purpose.

What was a demon's purpose? Sebastian knew that well. It was to trick and charm and seduce God's precious man off the thorny path to Heaven. It was to build snares out of gold, blood, and promises, three things man could not resist. It was to make man cry and sweat and piss himself as he begged for mercy, on his knees, only understanding at his bitter end that the golden gates would for him stand firmly closed. Most of all, the demon's purpose was to take the soul into his mouth, into his being, and sup upon its poetry.

Sebastian was a connoisseur. He had tasted a myriad of lifetimes; he had smelled countless bouquets. The revenge-seeker was sweeter than the thief, and the thief could be bitter or sour, depending on his motives, his childhood. Bastards and drunkards had runny, salty souls like tears. The souls of the sick were curdled and textured. Sebastian personally enjoyed the rich gravy that came from the grief-stricken most of all.

"My lord, you are not quite yourself these days," he had said, and it was true. The ten-year-old Ciel had held more fire and brimstone – he'd shimmered with sheer pride. Again the bath revealed this so. In his younger days Ciel was as unabashed in his nakedness as an Olympian. Now he'd grown shy of his body, only shedding his towel at the last possible second and adorning his toga again at the soonest opportunity.

"You should put new sheets on my bed now," Ciel had said during last night's bath, while Sebastian had been scrubbing between his shoulder blades with a large soapy sponge.

"Certainly, sir, after we finish here."

"No, you should do it now. I want you to. So I have something to sit on when I'm in my pajamas."

Sebastian sighed and wiped dry his hands. He decided not to question his master, as the day had been a rough one, though the interruption was a little stilting: of course he not intended for Ciel to sit on a bare mattress, he merely meant to change the sheets while the boy relaxed in the water. But if it was to be insisted upon…

When he returned from the bedroom, Ciel told him, "I finished washing my legs myself, so you can get on to my hair." Sebastian understood the scheme at once. He hoped this wouldn't become a pattern. Ciel's new bashfulness was going to make bathtime very complicated if he kept coming up with excuses for Sebastian to leave halfway through each time.

In the long-term, however, these petty annoyances could prove substantial. Adolescence was a different kind of emotional torment, Sebastian was coming to know, an unintended yet self-inflicted kind, and he wondered what sort of flavor this would add to the soul. He forced himself to fantasize about the delicacy until he felt the saliva growing in his mouth and was satisfied in his demonhood once more. Even humans who crooned over piglets and calves ate pork and beef without a second thought. A single spike in sympathy for his prey was no cause for alarm. As long as the end still excited him, Sebastian relaxed in the knowledge that his mind was not lost.

* * *

Ciel didn't call Sebastian to his bedroom until it was a quarter past eleven. He was sitting up in bed, though his posture was slumped, and his hair had been fluffed up by his pillow even more so than usual.

"Oh my. It would seem you slept deeply, yes, my lord?" Sebastian asked with soft amusement.

Ciel rubbed at his tattooed eye, the innocent blue one at half-lid. "How late is it?" he asked, then immediately yawned, indulgent, mouth stretched wide enough to show off every tooth.

Sebastian smiled accordingly at this display. "Just past eleven, sir – you managed to sleep for over twelve hours. Truly you must have needed the rest."

The boy nodded groggily a few times.

"Would you like me to bring you your breakfast now, my lord? I began preparing it not long ago; the temperature should still be palatable."

"Yes, but… in a moment." Ciel shifted his legs under the covers. He gave his head a hard shake in order to perk up more quickly. "I was thinking… well… I don't know what I should do with myself today. I mean… I don't know what sort of Ciel the servants are expecting to see… Though it isn't as if I care about their opinion," he corrected sharply, "but I do care about how they respond to me. And if they treat me like some sort of invalid, I'll get cross with them, see if I don't." Ciel sighed, leaning back. "But at the same time, I'm not going to pretend as if yesterday didn't happen. I just have no intention of ever telling them what I was up in my room for all day." A blush, the color of a sliced strawberry, hinted the tops of his cheeks. "What I mean is, I don't know how to respond to them, if they ask why I was in here."

"You need not answer them, if they did," Sebastian said. "If they were bold enough to broach such a topic with you, I would be very cross with them myself. The master's business is not that of the servants', unless the master wishes it to be."

"Right," Ciel agreed, bobbing his chin a bit, as if Sebastian had reminded him of this fact. "Right… Well… I still feel like I should have an answer. I'm worried that if I don't say something to them, they'll form their own opinions, and that would be worse than any lie I could come up with."

"Mr. Tanaka's first assumption was that you had had a nightmare about your past and it was affecting you, which wasn't entirely wrong," Sebastian informed. "I wouldn't be surprised if the other servants thought something similarly."

Sebastian said this believing it would pacify Ciel, but his response was one of shock. "What? Are you serious? The hell are they talking about my personal problems for?! Is that what they always think, when I'm a bit late in the morning or lounging in my room? That I'm having an attack of panic because I'm _ever_ so _traumatized_?"

"I haven't any surefire idea what their thoughts are, as I of course haven't asked them directly," Sebastian said. "I don't believe so, though. You may recall that Mey-Rin, Finny, and Bard have had their own experiences with trauma, yet are able to live normal lives. I cannot speak so admirably of them in most cases, but I believe they do know what it is like to have dark memories – what it is to sit with them."

At last that did quell the boy. "I never thought about it that way," he said. He breathed out his nose and folded his arms. "Fine. I'll just let them assume whatever they want then. Saves me the trouble of coming up with some stupid story."

"Glad to hear it, sir," Sebastian said. "Shall I bring you breakfast now, then?"

"Yes," said Ciel, and there was a full tray before him in moments.

He had never been a fast eater or a heavy eater, but these days Ciel did eat with reserved gusto. The plate was always bare when the master declared himself finished. Today was more of the same, not a crumb or speck overlooked. The high-pitched scraping of Ciel's fork against the floral transferware for a last bite of hash browns reminded Sebastian of the "music" some lesser demons entertained themselves with.

"My, my, I shall have to be careful to wash this dish myself, or Bard will mistake it for a clean one," Sebastian teased.

Instead of puffing up his cheeks at the remark, Ciel merely lapped at the tip of his fork. "What _are_ you going to do today anyway?"

The young master's tone had not been authoritative: he was asking out of pure curiosity. Such a strange thing to wonder… Ciel had never professed an interest in his butler's daily routine before, except when they first met and were training each other. Ah, but it was possible that Ciel had a request and planned to see when it could be done. That was a normal reason for the master to ask such.

"Well," Sebastian began, "after I finish tidying up breakfast, I was going to check the kitchen storage to measure our current stock of sugar, salt, flour, and the like, and leave orders with Bard for more, if necessary. Following that, I was going to inspect the rain gutters, as they seemed a bit clogged during the last storm. That may also be a good time to examine the state of the chimney flues, to see that they're efficient. Otherwise, my schedule shall not deviate from the usual of preparing high tea and dinner, and keeping the house in good order. Is there something I did not mention that you required me to make time for?"

Ciel shook his head no, sliding the tray off his lap and handing it to Sebastian. "I just wondered where you'd be around today was all."

"Ah. I see." Only he didn't, at least, not entirely. Had that been an indirect request for reassurance, the very reassurance Tanaka had mentioned Ciel needing at this age? Sebastian sincerely hoped not. "Well then, young master–" he held out a hand to help the boy out of bed "–shall we go forth and greet the day together?"

* * *

Ciel was dressed in a black frock coat, a deep grey single-breasted pinstripe vest, and short grey trousers with black stockings beneath. For a spot of color, the tops of the stockings were trimmed with burgundy and a matching ribbon was tied in a loose bow around the boy's collar. Ciel toyed at one of his earrings, twisting it in the lobe while Sebastian adjusted his sleeve on the opposite hand. Yes, it didn't quite meet the wrist…

"Ouch," Ciel hissed lightly.

"Perhaps you should leave that be, hm?" Sebastian smirked.

Ciel didn't take his hand away, nervously turning at the little gem. "What am I going to _do_ today anyway? You said I should take my mind off my work for a bit. But I can't decide how to keep myself busy."

"I hardly expected that to be a hard question for _you_ to answer." Sebastian straightened up, the outfit passing his inspection well enough. "What were you doing last month, when you were neglecting your lessons and such?"

"Don't patronize me," Ciel snorted. His index finger rubbed at the handle of his cane after Sebastian handed it to him – certainly a better habit than stretching the holes in his ears. "I suppose there're always new chess strategies to test out. Or billiards, I'm finally starting to get the appeal of it. And now that I think about it, I haven't exercised Irish or Sysonby in a while." Ciel's grip on the cane tightened a fraction. "Well, I'd need to ask Bard to help me saddle them if I did that…"

Ah, so there was still some trepidation about facing the staff today. Sebastian chose to let that play out on its own: no more encouragement was to be doled out this morning, or he would just be teaching Ciel to come to him with every little gripe. Not at all the lesson he needed the boy learning just before his aunt was to come into the picture. "I don't know if your riding boots still fit, my lord – in November you told me they pinched. Fortunately, Miss Hopkins should be in contact with me soon to tell me if she can get you in for an early fitting. We should have her measure you for shoes as well."

Ciel kicked out his right foot in the high-heeled lace-ups he currently adorned. "I can only wear these with thin stockings now, too, or else my toes feel cramped. Let's visit a cobbler soon and place an order for all-new pairs."

"Perhaps just a few while your feet are growing," Sebastian suggested. "It wouldn't do you any good if they were too small by the time they arrived. Custom shoes take a while to make properly."

Ciel blinked and craned his neck to gaze down at his feet. "Do you really think they'll grow that fast?"

"It's always a possibility." Much as he had yet to learn about adolescence, Sebastian was not unfamiliar with the sight of a young man whose shoe size had reached adulthood before the rest of him.

Ciel cocked one ankle, then the other, looking somewhere between baffled and impressed with his feet. "All right then. Only one new pair for a while yet." He took a large step forward; the conversation seemed to puff him up. "Well, it's high time I got the day started – it's already past noon. I'm going to my study. You go off wherever it is you have to go. Goodbye."

* * *

The rain gutters on the east side of the house were especially stuffed with dead leaves dating all the way back to November. Sebastian knelt on the edge of the roof and fished out the debris with a trowel. This was just another one of the many tasks he would never offer to Bard or Finny: if they didn't break their necks, they'd break at least a hundred shingles. It did feel hardly the head butler's role to be doing this though. Was there even a graceful way to unclog a rain gutter? If anyone could make a ballet of this scrub work, it was Sebastian, but he reserved his energy for other matters today.

There was a distant whinny, and Sebastian looked up to see the postman's arrival in the drive. Ah, there was Nina's response: he was never sure what manners to expect of the woman, and it was good that she did not tarry. He sprung down from the rooftop behind the house, so the postman would not see his acrobatic descent, and accepted the message with a courteous nod, then opened it promptly.

 _I will arrive tomorrow, March 31st, at noon. Please have a room ready in advance for taking measurements and to act as my workspace._

The only addition to the message was a large, swooping signature that occupied almost the entire rest of the parchment. The terseness of the letter seemed to convey an irritation at the short notice; she did not even properly address the master, how shameful. Well then, she could expect to be paid handsomely in money and lectures alike. Sebastian never had a shortage of words for that coquettish tradeswoman.

Sebastian took a respite from his chores to bring the letter to Ciel. Sensing for the boy's presence found him in the library, rather than his study, and Sebastian went on his way with a knowing smile. Perhaps he could have guessed as much. Surely those anatomy books would be particularly enticing today…

But if one was having a conversation, they certainly couldn't be reading. As Sebastian approached the door, he was immediately aware of a familiar voice in the room.

"I felt very helpless yesterday, hearing you speak like that." It was Tanaka, of course. His words were laced with that perfect concern best captured in the voices of the elderly. "I so desperately wished there was something I could have said, but I didn't know where to begin. I was afraid of making the situation worse."

"It isn't your job to say anything." A pause. "In that moment… it hardly felt like me. I don't even associate that person with myself. You shouldn't either."

"But… it is a _part_ of you, young master."

"Well of course I know _that_. I'm not mental." Another pause. Ciel's voice slowed down as he mulled over the best way to explain his experience. "It was more like… a little child overcame my thoughts all of a sudden. Yes, that's it. There's just something inside me that, when it gets anxious, snatches up the reins and shoves the real me out of the way, and doesn't give me control again until it's made me look completely ridiculous. I don't know why and I don't like it. I despise having to clean up its mess in the end. But it's all I can do." His voice had an airy ring to it, as one who dismisses a mere trifle.

"I don't think it's ridiculous, young master. I feel a bit sorry for that child."

Ciel was very quiet for a moment. Sebastian could hear the grandfather clock inside the room ticking. "It isn't something to feel sorry for. It's annoying and it doesn't listen to me."

Tanaka made a contemplative noise in the back of his throat. "Well… if it doesn't listen to you, might it listen to somebody else?"

"I have no idea, and I don't care," Ciel said, not harshly but still in a way meant to finalize the conversation. "I really don't. I really just hate it. This discussion is tedious for me, and it's all its fault. I don't want to talk about this anymore."

To Sebastian's surprise, Tanaka did not allow the subject to close there. "What I think, young master, is that this 'child' is trying to tell you something. I think he deserves to be listened to, as much as I know he's been a bother for you. Perhaps that would help you understand why he's there in the first place."

" _It_ ought to listen to _me_ , not the other way around," Ciel said defiantly. "That's all I have to say about it. Let's not speak on this anymore. Do you have the letters written for Cavendish and Kashyap about mass-producing those fried Indian sweets? What are they called, jelly-something? Jelly bees*? Good, have them sent promptly. Then, would you mind telling Sebastian that I'd like to have tea shortly? And some lunch as well?"

By the time the senior butler left the study, Sebastian had practically materialized behind the next corridor, out of sight.

There were not many in Ciel's inner circle that could do what Tanaka had done just now. Aside from Lau and Undertaker, Ciel always did tend to be gentler with those he had known before the contract. They could tap into some softness in him that Ciel barred all newcomers from seeing. Sebastian considered it a good fortune that he had overheard this conversation by chance. He was, of course, not high enough on Ciel's totem pole to know such secrets. And gladly so.

* * *

"I had a strange conversation with Mr. Tanaka just now."

Ah, no, how could he forget: he was the totem pole's watchman.**

"He was asking me about yesterday," Ciel continued, after Sebastian laid a plate of spring greens and radishes in a light balsamic before him. "He said he didn't need the details – thank God, and I wouldn't have told him anyway – but he asked me if there was anything he could have said in the moment to make me rational." Ciel took a bite of the salad, made a bitter face, and drenched the vegetables in more of the vinaigrette he'd been offered from a tiny silver pitcher.

Sebastian stood by silently. Bound to the truth, there was only so much he could insinuate without revealing he'd overheard the conversation already, and he waited to see what the young master would catch him up on.

Ciel swallowed his mouthful. "He got me thinking, about how I really felt in that moment, when I was so ashamed and I didn't want anyone to find out. I felt like I wasn't myself. I felt like an entirely different person, but I had no willpower over him. I had to give in to his demands until I'd finally wrestled back the control." Ciel shook his head, smirking a bit. "It's like a disease, like my asthma – I can't help but let this other being take control, just like I can't help the coughing when it grips me. I've been so embarrassed about this alternate self for so long. But now I wonder if I should be. I wonder if there's some parasite inside of me that makes me this way." He tipped his chin at Sebastian. "Is there such a thing, some little organism that can get inside your skull and change your behavior, up inside your brain? Do you know of it?"

Would that there could be. "Sir, there is no such thing inside you."

"Tch." Ciel immediately grew frustrated. He banged his fist and the handle of the fork against the tabletop. "Lovely. And here I hoped for _some_ way out. So then what you're telling me is that all my thoughts were my own yesterday, and I'm absolutely crazy to try to attribute them to some other entity."

"You are far from 'crazy,' my lord," Sebastian said. "Even if such anxieties are a part of you, as you say, it does not mean they are without impulse."

"Well then where the hell are they coming from?" Ciel demanded. "I hate behaving like that, like a spooked horse, it's so embarrassing. I want to stop letting my feelings in the moment take control of me."

"Young master, I do believe that is the result of being human."

Ciel crossed his arms, flopping back against his chair so that it rocked briefly on its hind legs. "But other people don't _act_ like that," he whined.

"'Other people,'" Sebastian said, "haven't been through what you have."

It was spoken as an observation, but with a jolt Sebastian realized his words might have been served with a generous helping of sympathy – that accursed thing that was surely his parasite to bear. The grandfather clock spoke when neither of them did, a three-beat chime followed by those endless metronomic ticks.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," Ciel finally said, to Sebastian's masked relief. "You told me that you heard back from Nina when you first came in. So? What is it then?"

* * *

Sebastian was not blind. No, he could see with perfect clarity the circumstances he had put himself in. Whatever he had spoken to Ciel yesterday evening, whatever _sympathy_ had seeped into his tone, it had increased the boy's trust in him exponentially. He had not meant to convey to Ciel that he was now his surrogate, his lead through adolescence. Neither does the moon intend to change the tides: it merely does so by existing, locked in its eternal dance with Earth.

And like the moon, Sebastian was such a product of nature. Humans saw him quite the opposite, but the demon knew better. Following his instinct had merely gotten him in trouble this time rather than the other way around. So a dog ate chocolate and poisoned himself, so Sebastian comforted his charge and betrayed his purpose for existing. But nature prepares her children for their mistakes, and so the dog will not die if he eats grass to make himself vomit. And forever will the scent and taste of chocolate repel the wise dog.

Sebastian would take advantage of the boy's newfound trust one last time. Then it was over. He could never allow Ciel to associate him with a guardian's attention or patience or reassurance or kindness again, for these were fodder for the awful talon of sympathy that clutched Sebastian to its feathered breast.

It was ten-thirty in the evening. Ciel was in bed early, earlier than he had been all month, not having been up for even twelve hours, quite awake but lying down for an attempt.

"I don't know how I should be able to sleep very quickly," he said, hands folded beneath his head on the pillow, "but I suppose I should at least try. Aunt Francis won't be very impressed with me if I'm not awake on-time for the cricket match this Friday."

Sebastian smirked. "If only I had known that sending you off with your family would solve the sleeping matter sooner," he mused, knuckle to his chin. "We may have had fewer arguments, at any rate. Well, I for one am pleased with your due diligence. If you keep it up, your efforts to turn your late-night habits around will not be in vain."

Ciel pouted thoughtfully, looking away. "It was your idea to try, though."

"Yes. But you did not have to act on it."

"I suppose." Ciel shrugged. "I'm only saying… maybe I wouldn't have done it if someone hadn't told me to. It wouldn't have occurred to me."

This was the day's second indirect request for guidance. It reminded Sebastian of the task at hand. _Take advantage of the boy's newfound trust one last time. Then it is over._ "You are not tired at all, yes, young master?"

"Not a bit. I could count a thousand sheep before my eyelids started to droop."

"Then… before you try to sleep, perhaps you would be open to a discussion of a more personal nature?"

"A… personal nature?" Ciel looked uncertain.

"More of a recounting, actually. It need not be so personal, and you do not have to answer me, again, if you do not want to." Sebastian gave the smallest hum of a laugh. "And I shall 'muck out' the stables, if that punishment still stands."

Ciel lifted up his head to glare at him with sidelong confusion. "What? What are you on about now?"

"Please pardon any impertinence, my lord, but I wanted to address again the occurrence at the Shrove Tuesday party between you and the young man from the Reubin family."

Ciel hesitated, breath crackling in his throat a bit, then said, "That? That was over a month ago."

"It was," Sebastian conceded, "but… I felt a change in you that night. I think you may have as well. And I think we can both agree that this is the first day in a while that we have been on good terms with each other. If you're willing to recollect, I would be very curious to know."

"Hmm." Ciel leaned back in the pillow a bit, sighing out his nose, and closed his eyes. He contemplated this quietly. Then his brow slouched. "Ugh, it was just… It was really stupid, Sebastian. I don't know. My mind is so scattered these days. It jumps from thought to thought and comes up with all sorts of things, I don't always know how it gets where it does – I just find myself there."

Sebastian gave a more contemplative hum. _My most recent thoughts have behaved in kind._ He waited for the boy to tell his story.

"So, Lyle Reubin had forgotten his manners at home, and Jane was near to tears she was so ashamed," Ciel began, knitting his fingers together and placing them at the base of his throat. "The other girls were getting frightened and upset. I knew if anyone was going to say something, it would have to be me. And besides, that stupid boy was being as bad as a drunk! It was getting on my nerves! So of course I told him off!"

There was a glimmer of the confident, irritated young master Sebastian knew best. It faded into melancholy all too fast.

Ciel had been toying with the top sheet, absentminded in his actions. "I said something like, 'You're spoiling this party for everyone else, you're an awful nuisance.' And he said, 'That's what all my teachers said about me too.' So I replied, 'Then it's no wonder they kicked you out of school.' Which, in hindsight, was a bit rude, especially towards his sister, but Lyle had really said so himself in the first place." Ciel shrugged, chewed his lip briefly. He seemed not to want to speak more.

"The way he responded next," Sebastian prompted, "was jarring to you somehow."

Ciel pulled up his knees and huffed again, fussing over how to go about saying what came next. "Well, what he said was," Ciel began, and stopped. He rambled to himself instead, "I'm ridiculous, letting it bother me like I did… I hardly even understand how I made that connection, or why I spent so much time on it, it's silly…"

"Perhaps that conclusion can be reached, if you tell me what it is he said to you." Sebastian spoke calmly, but inside he was equal parts intrigued and tentative.

"Well, what he said was, 'Maybe I got kicked out on purpose, because nobody believed me when I said I was in danger.'" Ciel was red-faced when he finally got the words out. Sebastian wasn't entirely sure where this hot embarrassment came from but made no comment. He was careful not to do anything that might keep his charge from at last revealing the dark cellar of his doubt. "And the way he looked at me when he said it, I knew that he really _had_ been in danger… or, at least, he thought he had been. Either way, he wasn't lying to me." Ciel tucked some stray hair behind his ear. Swallowed. "And the way his eyes were, it reminded me of… of myself, when I was younger, I mean. The way he spoke mostly though. And it… It's stupid, but he made me… jealous."

Sebastian cocked his head to one side. "Jealous?"

"I know, I _know_ , I said it's stupid!" Ciel's face was burning.

Sebastian patched it up quickly. "I don't believe it's stupid. I believe it is important. Won't you explain, young master?"

Fortunately that had been the right thing to say. The boy's skin still glowed, but he admitted, "I was jealous that he could just get out of whatever trouble he was in by acting like a little child. He made me start thinking about when you brought me back to the mansion, when I was just ten. All I did was focus on becoming an earl and becoming an adult, and I didn't want to think about that horrible month at all, I didn't want to acknowledge what I'd been through.

"But it's been a few years and thinking about it is different now, and it makes me angrier than ever before. Like I said yesterday, I'm mad at my parents, and I'm mad at the London police for not being able to find my captors, and I'm even mad at Lyle, who's got nothing to do with any of this – I'm just mad because he was complaining when he wasn't even in as much danger as I was! I just want to scream at everyone, 'You don't understand anything!' But that would be the most childish of all, and so I can't say a word. I feel like a firework about to go off. I just feel wretched and stupid all the bloody time."

Ciel finished his tirade with a ragged exhale.

 _Oh, the layers of grief this soul was wound up in…!_

This is what Sebastian thought. But what was the tone of that thought? Sebastian himself was not sure. He decided it must be bloodlust over the meal. It _must_ be.

It _had_ to be.

But whether or not it was… it was due time to close this book.

"Well then," Sebastian said, clapping his hands twice, as if to brush the conversation off, "isn't it much better when we tell each other what's really going on? Perhaps we would have gotten on a lot better these past few months if I had known what had truly been ailing you. So let this be a lesson in clearer communication between the two of us. Yes?"

Ciel blinked at Sebastian with lost, puzzled eyes. "That's… Is that all you have to say about it?"

"Young master," said Sebastian, amiable as a street vendor, "I am qualifying that I understand your perspective. You experienced a delay in your grief. You are coming to terms with your past. It is causing you to change the way you see the world – your world. It even changed the way we respond to each other. So I am very relieved to know your perspective at last."

"Do you know my perspective?" Ciel regarded the small mounds his feet made beneath the covers. "I don't know if I know it."

"I've troubled you," Sebastian said. "I did not recognize the answer to my question would be so complicated, emotionally, for you. I did not mean to cause a stir right before you are about to sleep. You hardly needed that."

"No, it's…" A pause. "It was good… that you asked."

Sebastian dipped his head. "And it's good that you think so. But now I should leave you alone, to your sheep."

"Alone, to my sheep," Ciel repeated softly. "I will make for a real shepherd tonight: I feel I will keep vigil for hours before I am finally able to rest."

"The shepherd that cannot sleep is too busy watching for wolves," Sebastian said, stealing the flame from the bedside paraffin lamp, the last light in the room. "I urge you to think of sheep, not wolves, if you wish to drift off."

Ciel pressed his chin into the pillow he'd had since his youth, his greatest physical comfort. "A shepherd and his sheep are much more at peace," he mumbled, "when the shepherd has a dog."

Sebastian froze in the darkness. This metaphor… If Ciel were the shepherd, was the dog a simulacrum for Sebastian himself? Luckily this proved not to be the case – Ciel finished a moment later, "And I have no dog, so I must keep counting until I can count no more."

Sebastian relaxed then. "Goodnight, young master. I wish that sleep is fast on your heels."

The door, yesterday's wall, today's drawbridge, shut at the demon's back. And from that moment on, Sebastian vowed he would never allow sympathy to so shape his actions again.

Three days. Three days until they would travel to Oxford, and Sebastian would deliver the child to his family. He saw these days stretching before him as bright as the suns that would dot their skies, blinding, inevitable. There were things to do about Ciel. Get him outfitted. Get his suitcases packed, his hair trimmed. Be his pawn or be his knight, but be no longer a thing wrapped around his finger, unless that thing is a serpent.

A serpent, a serpent. A serpent, not a dog. Ah, but Ciel had not appointed Sebastian the role of the dog – and in the moment, Sebastian had been so relieved not to be labeled the canid that he hadn't bothered to ask what it _did_ label. He chuckled without merriment. Of course, the Reubin boy mystery would be solved just as a new riddle presented itself, and it would nibble at his brain just the same as the last.

The night's darkness brought with it time for turning questions over. If Sebastian was not the dog in the equation… than who or what was?

* * *

* The fried Indian sweet that Ciel is trying to recall the name of is jalebi. It's a sugary confection cooked in such a way that the outside is crisp but the inside is syrupy, and it's a very pretty orange color. In actual Victorian times, Queen Victoria's closest companion was an Indian man named Abdul Karim. I don't know if he exists in the Black Butler universe, but if he does, I imagine she might make an effort to weave Indian culture into the English mainstream. Prior to the events in my story, she asked Ciel if he could try marketing some Indian-themed snacks and toys, to see how it caught on, and naturally he agreed to it. Ciel even asked Soma what his favorite sweet was, to which Soma promptly replied, "Jalebi!"

**The "watchman" of a totem pole (a wooden pillar meant to commemorate cultural beliefs through carvings, made by certain Native North American groups) was an animal figure sometimes fixed at the top of the structure. Its purpose was to be protective and look after the house or village.


End file.
